


Silent Ice

by ofskatesandwatercolor



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Deaf Characters - Freeform, Deaf!Yuuri, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Pining, Rating May Change, Romance, Starts out a little angsty but it lightens up, Voice Kink, a few misunderstandings, complicated but fun dates, dorks falling in love, yuri p. is too young to be cussing like this, yuuri is deaf and viktor messes up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofskatesandwatercolor/pseuds/ofskatesandwatercolor
Summary: Some figure skaters found their inspiration from music. Some found it from joy, from sadness, from laughter, their deepest desires, from the elegant sound of their blades scraping the ice. Viktor Nikiforov had never dreamed he’d find the inspiration to enjoy his life-long passion again, until he met deaf figure skater Katsuki Yuuri.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello wonderful people, I am so excited to finally share this story with you all! This fic is going to be fairly short, but will have chapters that are posted regularly every week. Chapter two is going to be up a little sooner than usual, but after that, you can expect update days with an expected amount of time between them! Thank you to my amazing beta, and all of you on tumblr who encouraged me to post.
> 
> My tumblr: @yuuriskates

Viktor stomped through the entrance of the Ice Castle, his mind in reeling, emotional turmoil.

He had stayed at the pet hospital, waiting for news of his precious Makkachin for as long as he could, but it was only a small matter of time before reality hit him back in the face and he received a text from Yuuko, who was wondering where he was.

Don’t get him wrong, Viktor loved his job, but he could barely stand to walk away from that pet hospital. Walking away from his suffering pet had been nothing short of pure agony, but Yuuko, his friend and current boss, wasn’t the only person counting on him. There were a dozen little children waiting for ice lessons that their parents had paid very good money for their children to receive, lessons to which Viktor was now arriving late for.

He barely registered the chill that wrapped around his skin like an icy blanket as he stepped briskly through the grand glass doors, turning his head ever so slightly when Yuuko’s warm greeting reached his ears.

“Viktor,” she called out, bolting from where she’d been stationed at the front desk. “Vik-“

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Viktor interrupted, his thoughts everywhere except with the sympathetic looking young woman in front of him. “I was at--”

“I know.” Yuuko interjected gently. She was silent for a moment,  then timidly added, “How is he?”

Pitifully, Viktor dropped his head. “I don’t know, the vet still has him, but last I checked, they weren’t sure he was going to make it. It’s so strange, Yukko. Day before yesterday he was completely fine, and all of a sudden…” He trailed off as his voice weakened, focusing on a point past Yuuko’s face sadly. “It happened so fast.”

Yuuko took his quivering hand in hers and spoke in her most soothing voice, letting him know she understood what he was going through. She didn’t take notice to the fact that Viktor was barely listening. Instead he was trying to think of other things: his little brother Yuri back in Russia and his favorite food, Viktor’s favorite song to skate to, the number of days it had been since he’d retired from his life of professionally figure skating to explore what life had to offer him; anything to get his mind off of his beloved pet.

“…family friend of mine on the ice, so just know that when you’re communicating with him. The first graders are waiting in the rec room with Takeshi, but if you need a moment to regroup—“

Yuuko’s voice was cut off by the sound of six pairs of feet pounding out the door of the rec-room, shrill voices shrieking with delight as Takeshi followed them exasperatedly. “Yuuko! I can’t watch the triplets with a bunch of other kids romping around! I am going to lose one!”

Yuuko sighed. She pulled Viktor in a tight embrace that he barely felt, then herded her girls and her husband back into the rec-room. Viktor heard the muffled sound of scolding, and three little voices complaining. Left to his own devices, he trudged towards the far end of the rink.

Plopping himself and his skating duffel down on a nearby bench, Viktor rubbed at his eyes wearily and breathed deeply, focusing himself before pulling out and lacing up his skates. He could get through today. The first graders weren’t the rowdiest of all of the children he provided lessons for.

Viktor had started teaching lessons at the Ice Castle skating rink roughly four months ago. He had gotten bored with competitive skating, and wasn’t receiving the satisfaction that he sought out from life with gold medals anymore. He wanted more than awards and medals, more than mountains of money at the end of the day; he wanted to experience love, he wanted to migrate, to see the world. Japan would have been his first stop and he planned to stay only a month, maybe two, but then his poodle had fallen ill. Cushing’s Disease, an illness which had no cure and a fifty percent survival rate, had been weakening his poor pet and tricking his brain into thinking that he was hungry all the time. An incident with sticky buns, which would have been minor for any other dog, became a life threatening issue with his. His two month stay had extended to four, but Victor planned to explore some new exotic place as soon as Makkachin recovered.

_He_ will _recover._

The sudden scratching of skates against the ice jolted Viktor out of his thoughts. His head snapped up instantly and he frowned, eyebrows furrowed. Had he truly been so lost in his thoughts that he had been completely oblivious to another skater?

Viktor still felt hollow, but he now watched, though absently, as his thoughts churned. He paid no mind to the graceful way the raven-haired skater danced across the ice. He barely registered the skater’s small smile, his eyes closed blissfully as he stretched out his arms. His thoughts turned back to his precious dog, his precious, _dying_ dog that Victor couldn’t be with because he had to fucking _work_. Work, while his most valued companion suffered in an animal hospital. Work…which reminded him…

Victor swallowed the lump in his throat and stood, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hey,” he called firmly, his voice echoing across the ice. “Excuse me, but I need you to get off of the rink.” He did not mean to snap. Viktor barely recognized his own voice, flat and full of hostile coldness.

The skater didn’t even glance in Viktor’s direction. He twirled and leaped with that little smile, and Viktor squinted. Was the man wearing earbuds? Viktor leaned forward, waist just above the short door that separated the rink from the spectators. No. He was not. The skater had no device in his ears and must have heard Viktor calling out to him. The skater was blatantly _ignoring_ Viktor! His blood boiled.

_“Hey!”_ He was yelling now, his voice a harsh hiss. “Get off the goddamn ice, I’ve got a group of kids who are waiting, and I’m not—“

He was cut off yet again by the sound of the young man’s blades against the ice as he zoomed past Viktor, barely a yard away from where Victor was watching, as if to say, _Fuck you!_ He still was wearing that soft smile, which now looked more like a taunting smirk.

“That’s it.” Viktor snarled. He ripped the guards off his blades, hurled them on the ground, stormed onto the rink, and cast a seething glare in the man’s direction. With the red in his face creeping down his neck and his fists clenched at his sides, he was surprised the ice wasn’t melting below him. This was _Viktor’s_ ice.

Jaw clenched, fists balled, Viktor glided his way towards the skater in deadly quiet. The man was near the top right corner of the rink, twirling in a beautiful loop that was charged with such electricity and high speed that there was no way the man could have seen Viktor coming.

Viktor paused right in front of the man. He continued to twirl, his eyes fluttered closed. Viktor watched the shadows his eyelashes cast on his round cheekbones.

“I thought I said,” Viktor began, his voice a venomous lullaby, “to get off the ice.”

The only sound Viktor received in reply was the sound of the man’s skates as his spin increased speed. So he was going to play games. Fine.

The young man’s routine was abruptly halted as Viktor lunged forward. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew it wasn’t this man that had him so furious and emotional, but he shoved the rationality down with a mental fist. He clamped onto the skater’s wrists in an iron grip from where they were poised above his head, halting the movement of his blades with a stomp and cross from one of his own. The skater yelped and skidded back, thudding against the wall with one of Viktor’s hands on the side of his head, the other still gripping one of his wrists.

“I don’t know what your goal was just now,” Viktor snarled, his face inches from the skater’s. _Makkachin. His sweet Makkachin—_ “but I’ve had enough of your bullshit. I’ve got a dozen children who are waiting for you to get your ass off the ice—“ _It was Viktor’s fault. He shouldn’t have left out sticky buns, he should have known his poodle would be tempted._ “But thanks to you…” _The sounds Makkachin made as he choked—_ “We’ve missed half a lesson. So if you could be so kind as to get out of my rink and never show your sorry ass here again so I can _do my fucking job,_ that would be greatly appreciated!” Viktor spat out the last phrase with vigor, some sadistic part of him gaining satisfaction from the vile words.

His red hot gaze began to simmer down to a low boiling when he stepped back a fraction, enough to take a good look at the skater’s face. The ringing in his ears silenced instantly when he realized that the young man was _weeping._

He had been in such a raging fit that he hadn’t noticed that the man was making wild gestures with the hand that Viktor didn’t have in a death grip. His wrist was shaking violently below Viktor’s hold, his eyes clouded with such fat tears that Viktor could barely see the brown beneath.  His mouth was contorted, opening and closing, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

The sight of the man, whom not two seconds before had been taunting him, broken down into heart-twisting _sobs_ was something that Viktor didn’t understand. It made him confused, and a little sad, but mostly irritated. Viktor was the one who should be upset!

“What in the world?” Viktor blurted, balking. “ _You_ were the one who started this! It’s not like I wanted to storm out here and make you cry, but you-you…” Viktor trailed off as he noticed the man no longer staring at his eyes, but at his lips. It was as if he was marking every movement they made, and it creeped the hell out of Viktor. It made his temper flare again. “Quit staring at my lips like that! What is your problem?!”

Viktor watched the man’s face turn beet red and his wide, doe-like eyes snapped up to meet Viktor’s icy blue irises. He cringed and curled into himself, gesturing frantically again with that shaky hand, and began pointing to his ears. His ears…the hand movements, his ears.

_His ears…_

 

_Holy God._

 

The man was deaf.

Viktor gasped, and let go of the man’s wrist, covering his mouth in horror. Time seemed to slow as his realization crashed into him like a freight train, and he staggered back,eyes focused on the man on the verge of a panic attack. He was probably so scared, all alone on the ice with no one to call to for help, he probably thought Viktor wanted to hurt him, bully him…It was no wonder the skater was watching his mouth! He was lip-reading, not being a pervert. Viktor’s hands twisted in his hair, and he felt his chest plummet.

“You’re deaf.” Viktor breathed, the words cutting him like a knife as they sunk in. “You’re deaf, you’re deaf, you’re _deaf—_ “

The man was nodding, weeping but nodding, hunched against the wall with his hands shielding his face. Viktor thought his heart had broken at the chance of fatality his poodle had, but no. Though bleeding, his heart was still one, but as he took in this man he had terrified to the point of hyperventilation, his bleeding heart _cracked._

It didn’t matter that the man was deaf, it wouldn’t have mattered if the man could hear and was teasing Viktor in the first place. What mattered was that he had let his personal emotions and frustrations get a hold of him, and he lashed out at the most convenient target. He had yelled at this innocent man, he had _grabbed_ him, made him cry…What had he done, what had he _done?_

“Viktor? Yuuri?” A voice rang out across the ice. Yuuko’s voice. “Viktor, I heard your voice from the rec-room, is everything alri-“ Her voice choked off on a gasp. Viktor’s head whipped around, and he realized how inflicting he must look, his body hunched over this skater’s—this _deaf_ skater’s—weeping form. The young man…Yuuri, Yukko had called him…was curled up in a ball on the ice, his red, tear-streaked face tucked into his knees. Viktor heard his quiet cries, and felt like throwing up.

Yuuko sprinted around to where the two of them were, her short ponytail whipping behind her. She took in Yuuri’s form, then Viktor’s, and her eyes flared in anger. “Viktor!” She snapped, her eyes once again snapping to Yuuri. “What did you _do?”_

It was Viktor’s turn to panic. Not because he was afraid of what was going to happen to him, no, he would greatly appreciate it if Yuuko would beat the living shit out of him right out here on the ice. No, the rising anxiety and panic was because Yuuri still had no idea what was going on. He was still terrified, and completely oblivious to the fact that Yuuko was right there, and that Viktor didn’t want to hurt him. Didn’t Yuuko mention something about a family friend, someone on the ice? Viktor wracked his brain, and groaned. Of course he would forget the last piece of phrase he heard when he stopped sulking and ignoring Yuuko. Well, that wouldn’t be the first time today that he had fatally screwed up.

“I…I lashed out at him.” Viktor said, voice cracking. “He wouldn’t get off the ice, and I, I—“

“You weren’t listening, were you?” Yuuko’s interruption was more of a statement than a question. Her voice was firm, but understanding.

Viktor shook his head, arms shaking for entirely new reasons.

Yuuko pursed her lips, but eventually said, “I’ll do your lesson today. Go home, or be with your dog, whatever it takes to get you to come down from this emotional…episode.” She said carefully. Her gaze turned to the crumpled skater, and her eyes softened. “I’ll take care of Yuuri.”

“No.” Viktor said quickly, and dropped down to Yuuri’s level. “I want to talk to Yuuri, apologize to him.”

Yuuri must have been reading Viktor’s lips, because at the mention of his name, Yuuri’s head snapped up. He visibly swallowed as Viktor tried to take his hand, and with a frightened gasp, Yuuri snatched it out of his reach. Silent tears were still rolling down his round, tear-streaked cheeks.

“I…” Viktor choked. “I am so _sorry,_ Yuuri—“ Yuuri cut him off with a loud sob. Faster than Viktor could think, Yuuri got to his feet and skated shakily back to the entrance. By the time Viktor had lifted his crestfallen head, Yuuri had thrown his skates off.

What had he _done?_

 

_\----------------------_

 

Hours later, Viktor found himself in the pet hospital waiting room.

The veterinary office was bustling, and unfortunately, the only open seat Viktor had been able to snag was a seat by the owner of a large snake.

Viktor tried not to cringe as the snake’s ominous amber eyes locked onto him. Its forked tongue slithered out, pointing at him,  and Viktor wrinkled his nose disgustedly.

_Please don’t eat me._

Viktor sighed, tapping his foot impatiently. He could only wait so long before he went insane, especially sitting next to a man holding nothing less than a slithering demon. Viktor tugged his coat closer to his body to fight off a shudder, and swallowed a growl.

_How long did it take to save a choking dog?_ Viktor shifted in his chair, restless. The swirling emotions that the day had wrung out of him threatened to swallow Viktor entirely, but he had decided that the only healthy way to deal with the growing pit of despair in his heart was to deal with one situation at a time.

_You are at the pet hospital; you are waiting for your sweet dog. Panic about the pretty Japanese man you screamed at later._

Viktor straightened as a vet technician in scrubs made her way over to his row of chairs. She walked past a little girl and her mother holding a cat, past a teenager and his ferret, past the man next to Viktor and his deity from hell…and paused right in front of Viktor. He felt a scrap of hope. “You’re Viktor Nikiforov, correct?” She tucked a short strand of onyx hair behind her ear, and straightened her glasses as she squinted at her clipboard. “Owner of an apricot poodle?”

Viktor nodded and he knew he sounded as desperate as he felt when he blurted, “Is he alright?”

The woman’s smile was tight as she said, “I’ll let you see yourself.”

She led him back to a hallway with several doors on each side, faint barking and the occasional meow coming from behind each one. He wrung his hands together anxiously.

Viktor almost ran into the woman as she paused suddenly in front of a door. Incredibly eager to see his best friend, Viktor grasped the handle and pushed his way into the small room and…there he was.

“Makkachin!” Viktor cried, rushing to his poodle’s side. Makkachin’s head snapped up at the sound of his owner’s voice, his fluffy tail thudding against the cool metal of the table he was resting on. He barked excitedly, a healthy, strong bark, and the sound of it made Viktor sag in relief. His sweet poodle was alive and breathing and that was all that mattered to Viktor in that moment. He buried his face in his dog’s silky fur, tears burning his eyes.

“He’s recovered well.” The vet technician said, an amused smile on her face. “Due to the disease, we wanted to be extra cautious in removing the sticky buns from his throat. We apologize for the process taking up more time than usual, but you can never be too careful with a dog diagnosed with Cushing’s Disease. He made it easy for us though. He’s a fighter and he’s pretty tough! He was relatively calm throughout the whole ordeal.”

Viktor beamed, filled with pride. “You hear that, Makkachin?” Viktor cooed, rubbing his dog on the head and snuggling his neck, “You’re a fighter! You did so well, Papa’s so proud of you! Extra treats for a week!” His stressed melted into oblivion as Makkachin licked his face.

“I have more good news to share with you. Since Makkachin was already here, Dr. Arakawa proceeded with the annual blood testing that Makkachin goes through every month. As usual, Makkachin’s Cushing’s disease was evaluated, and I am pleased to tell you that the disease has stopped multiplying so rapidly in your dog’s body. We are hoping this round of antibiotics will be one of Makkachin’s last; the disease is already showing signs of going into remission.”

“R-remission?” Viktor had no idea what that word meant, but he had never heard a sweeter sentence in his life. His dog was _alive,_ and showing signs of improvement!

“As you know, Cushing’s disease is not curable. However, diseases such as the one Makkachin has can go into something called remission, in which the disease stops progressing. It never goes away completely, but with antibiotics, the disease will remain stagnant in his body and have no effect on him. Makkachin will go back to being his normal, happy, energetic self, with a life expectancy that was just as promising as it was before he developed the disease.”

Viktor blinked, struck with such happiness and hope that he could barely breathe. “H-he’s going to be okay?”

The young vet technician smiled. “We think so! Just keep a careful eye on him until his next visit, and try not to leave any harmful foods where he can reach.” She raised an eyebrow, and Viktor felt his face flush in shame. He knew how lucky he was.

“Of course.” He said, and smiled back at her. “Thank you for your time.”

An hour later, Viktor snuggled his poodle closely on his couch, wondering what he had done in his life to receive such fortune. He cried a little harder than he’d like to admit once he was in the comfort of his own home, but Makkachin lapped away his tears, even as Viktor laughed wetly and tried to squirm away from his pet’s grainy tongue. Viktor sighed happily. “You’re such a good poodle.”

Makkachin barked happily.

“If it were legal, I’d marry you. You’re the sweetest, most adorable thing in the entire universe.” Viktor hummed. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he added, “Though that figure skater from the rink was pretty cute, too. I may have found your match, sweet Makkachin!” He buried his nose in the poodle’s curly fur, content to enjoy his happy, _alive_ dog’s presence, until his voiced thoughts truly sunk in. “Wait…”

Viktor sprang forward from his place on the couch, panting, causing Makkachin to yelp in alarm.

Viktor had never hated himself more for it, but his thoughts again wandered to that raven-haired skater. His first fantasy was of that intensely adorable little smile that Yuuri wore; soft, sweet lips curled upwards in a way that Viktor imagined was just for him. He pictured Yuuri’s tranquil and innocently beautiful face as he lost himself in a sport that he was clearly passionate about, those chocolate brown eyes shining and fluttering. Viktor thought of those lovely, slender arms fitted in a flattering black extended above his head, his ivory white neck thrown back, exposed to the ice rink’s chill air…

Viktor ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. “No.” He murmured, shaking his head. “No, no, no. I refuse. This is sick. I don’t deserve to be thinking about him, picturing myself in his life…” He threw his head back into the couch cushions dramatically and moaned. “Makkachin, your Papa is an old pervert!” He continued to rake his fingers through his hair, wondering how in the hell he was going to get past this one.

Viktor knew in his heart that the reason he wanted to apologize to Yuuri was not because he happened to be an exceptionally beautiful young man. Despite his inner turmoil and current self-hatred, Viktor knew deep down he was a good person, and didn’t care if Yuuri was a prince or a pauper. He simply wanted to make things right.

However, he had no excuse for his other thoughts of Yuuri. He had no excuse for seeing Yuuri as a puzzle to solve, a compass to follow, a door with a key he hadn’t yet obtained. Viktor blamed his admiration of Yuuri on his appreciation for skating, but one barely had to look to see what a gentle soul Yuuri was. The truth was, Viktor didn’t care how beautifully Yuuri skated. He wanted desperately to learn more about this mysterious man. Not the skater but the _man,_ this seemingly warm, sweet person that…that Viktor had made _cry._

He groaned again. He was screwed. He was thoroughly, deeply, _screwed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I wanted to thank you all so much for the positive feedback, especially after that angst-y first chapter!! It lightens up quite a bit, you'll see a bit of my goofy sense of humor in this story :) Every single positive acknowledgement of this fic means so much to me, thanks again!!

“So you want to bone him.”

 Viktor groaned at his little brother’s vile mouth. “Did you hear _anything_ I just said? I screamed at him, Yuri! I cornered him on the ice, I grabbed him, and made him cry! I was a complete monster, and I hate myself for it. No, I don’t want to _bone_ him. I want to apologize to him, talk to him, be his friend—“

 “And then bone him.”

 Viktor wished his brother was in his presence and not just a voice through his cell phone, so he could give him an unamused glare. “You’re insufferable.

 “You didn’t deny it!” Yuri countered smugly. “I don’t see what the big deal is, Viktor. I looked up his name on Instagram, and he’s not even that cute. Plus, he posts a bunch of figure skating videos without music, not even wearing headphones. What kind of figure skater practices a routine without any _music?_

 Viktor straightened. “He has Instagram?”

“No.”

 “Yes he does! You just said!” He whined shrilly.

 “You sound like a fifteen year old girl.”

 "You would know!” Viktor huffed petulantly.

 Yuri scoffed. “You still never answered me. Have you ever met a _real_ skater who doesn’t dance to music? He must not be that good if he can’t synch up his moves to—“

 “He’s deaf, Yuri.” Viktor interrupted quietly.

Yuri was silent on the other end of the phone. It took a lot to make Viktor's opinionated little brother speechless. “You mean…” Viktor could almost see his brother processing the words on the other side of the line, what Yuuri’s being deaf meant, what Viktor had done.

 Viktor sighed. “Yeah.”

 Yuri’s harsh, hissing laugh caused Viktor to wince and pull the phone from his ear. “Wow, Viktor. You’ve screwed up a lot, but congratulations. You’ve managed to royally fuck something up so badly that I don’t think even _I_ could live with the guilt.”

 The reminder caused Viktor’s emotions that he’d tried so hard to get a grip on flare up. He clenched the phone. “Shut up, okay? I want to fix this, and not just because Yuuri is beautiful! I want to show him how sincerely sorry I am.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me he was deaf in the first place?”

 “Because a disability doesn’t define a person, Yuri! According to Yuuko, he’s one of the kindest, most pure people out there.”

 “Have you ever actually talked to him before?” Yuri questioned skeptically.

 “And even if he happened to be a total jerk, I would want to fix things.” Viktor raised his voice slightly and barreled his words right over Yuri's, ignoring the question entirely.

 “Okay, okay, whatever!” Yuri grumbled. There was a moment of silence before he added, “How’s Makkachin?”

 Viktor couldn’t help but grin at the mention of his poodle. “He’s doing great! Wonderfully, actually! The vet dislodged the sticky buns from Makkachin’s throat with little to no problems. They also did a blood test, and the Cushing’s is no longer growing so quickly in his body. They think this round of antibiotics that they just put him on is going to be one of his last!”

 “That’s great to hear.” For once, Viktor’s younger brother sounded genuinely pleased.

 “I know! He’s sitting right beside me, actually. He’s a little loopy from the medicine, but other than that, he’s fine.” Viktor cooed. He stroked a hand through his poodle’s curly fur, causing Makkachin to yawn loudly. Viktor laughed delightedly.

 “So...what are you going to do now?” Yuuri inquired after a few moments of silence. “Makkachin was the only thing holding you back from traveling, but he’s close to recovery. What’s your next step?”

 The question was enough to make Victor’s stroking hand in Makkachin’s fur pause. The silence and emptiness of his apartment suddenly bore down on him, and caused a strange anxiety to shift in his chest.

Viktor had been denying it for weeks now, but deep down, he knew he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t satisfied with where his life was at, and he knew cavorting off to exotic places to relax and explore wasn’t going to cease the ache in his chest. But what could he do? Where could he go? Aside from skating, his life had no purpose.

 The cold, hard truth was that there was nothing the world could offer Viktor outside of skating. He had never gone to college due to his skating career, he had no other gifts, no other talents. Though Viktor had obtained riches enough to support a small country, and enough fans to live in one, the reality of his situation was that he had nothing. Wealth was nothing, medals and trophies were nothing, fans who loved him for his talents and his body weren’t enough to calm the storm his heart was brewing.

The idea of leaving Japan to go to yet _another_ unfamiliar place suddenly became enough to make Viktor want to throw up. His fringe of silver hair swung in his face as he hung his head dejectedly, knowing there was only one thing left for him, one place left to go.

 “I...I guess I’ll come back to Russia, Yuri.” Viktor blinked. Why did his eyes burn? “There’s nothing here for me in Japan. I don’t need money, the only reason I took a job was for something to do. I explored every inch, every mile of this beautiful country, but, well..." He sighed, trailing off. "I guess there’s no reason for me to stay now that Makkachin is better. I _am_ going to miss some of the friends I made, though.” Viktor laughed weakly, remembering Yuuko’s white, shell-shocked face when figure skating legend Viktor Nikiforov strode through the glass doors of the rink, asking if he could have a job teaching skating lessons to small children.

 “Good. Mom misses you, Viktor. I...miss you.” Yuri added the last part reluctantly, causing Viktor to coo in delight.

 “Aww, is my baby brother missing me?! I miss you too, Yurio!”

 “Don’t call me that!” He snarled. “Besides, who knows if Yakov will even take you back as a skating student? He’s furious you left.”

 Suddenly in a better mood, Viktor threw a leg over his sofa and lounged back. “He has to. I’m the best figure skater in Russia.” He boasted.

 “Wrong. I am, especially now that you’re gone. I get all the attention, all the press. Honestly, it’s annoying as hell. I don’t know how you stood it.”

 Viktor grinned, imagining his polar-opposite, grumpy little brother ceasing to offer the cameras even the tiniest of smiles.

 “I’m sure they love you. You’ve always been the more charming one of the two of us, after all.” Viktor countered sarcastically.

 “Shut up!” Yuri snarled. It was barely there, but Viktor recognized the clicking sound from the millions of times the clicks were aimed in his direction. He raised his eyebrows. “Yuri, are there fans following you right _now?”_

 “Viktor, now’s not--” His brother groaned as his name was interrupted by shrieking, shrieks that sounded distinctly like Viktor’s name. “Sorry. I just got out of practice, and there is a group of fans waiting for the Canadian skater, JJ, to walk out, but they heard me say your name. They now know I’m on the phone with you, and are flipping shit.”

 Viktor’s face tugged into a devilish smile. “Put it on speakerphone!”

 Yuri growled. “Viktor—“

 “Are they wearing cat ears? I’m surprised they didn’t smell your teenage angst from a mile away.”

 “Viktor, this isn’t funny!” Yuri interjected as Viktor threw his head back and laughed. “People are desperate to see you again, people are worried you’ve retired, that you’ll never return. Unless you want to lose your fan base that you’re so fond of and everything you’ve ever worked for, I would put your little exotic extravaganza to an end. I’ve got to go, but call Coach Yakov soon. You’re running out of time.”

 The call ended. Before Viktor let the weight in his chest sink to rock bottom, he made another phone call. He dialed the number with shaking fingers.

 His conversation with Coach Yakov was not a pleasant one. His coach hadn’t even spared a moment to ask how he was doing before he scolded him. _Months, Viktor._ The old man had snapped. _Months! Months of forcing your fans, the skating community, to wonder where in the hell you’d run off to. I kept your secret, no one knows you’re in Japan, but not without a price. Your absence has been encouragement for other rising figure skaters, and they’ve been training vigorously while you’ve lounged. It is going to take dedication and work that is more strenuous than you can imagine if you want to catch up, there is no more time for relaxation. You better get your ass back to Russia, or your career is over._

 Yakov told Viktor he would be calling the airlines himself, making sure that his prized skater was on a plane back to Russia no later than in a month. He and Viktor would train vigorously with few breaks until Viktor was back on his feet, time at a crunch if Viktor was to be prepared for the Russian figure skating championship in a few months.

 

It was December first. Viktor would have minimal time to train with Yakov, to prepare for an event his figure skating competitors had trained all year for. It would be difficult, and strenuous, but Viktor’s prodigious gift for skating had allowed him to surpass his skating peers by a landslide for years with little effort. It wasn’t a matter of him catching up to the others, it was a matter of getting even further ahead, further to the point that beating him was a wistful, child’s dream, as it once was for his competitors.

  _As it_ still _was, and would always be._

 Viktor could inwardly talk himself up all day, but that didn’t halt the rising worry lodged in his throat. Viktor glanced at his custom, gold-bladed skates that were hanging proudly near the front door of his spacious apartment. Not his practice skates, but his performing skates, the shiny, midnight leather reflecting the overhead lights. How stupid had he been? Skates weren’t something to show off, to be left displayed for company to admire, despite how his unique blades glittered. They were supposed to be worn, used, cherished, dulled with constant use and effort.

 Viktor desperately needed to get out. He needed to skate.

 Slipping on shoes and a coat, Viktor snatched his skates from where they were displayed and shoved them into his skating duffel.

 A half hour later, Viktor found himself standing in the center of the ice, but unlike most times he skated, his heart felt...empty. Devoid. Devoid of inspiration, of motivation to do something he had loved for so many years.

 It had been so easy to forget, forget these thoughts that had caused him to take a break from skating so many months ago. Viktor had exhausted every corner of his mind, every emotion, every joyful and pitiful situation he had endured and had poured it into his skating. He had left everything out on the ice, had squeezed every last drop of passion out of his body, and it had left him feeling so desolate that his limbs shook. How was he to go back to this full time in a month?

 His audiences weren’t surprised anymore. He had shown his audiences love, hate, joy, despair, anger, seduction, innocence, remorse, loneliness, fear, comfort, and countless other emotions and ideas through his skating. He had worn costumes of elegant, simple black to frivolous skirts of shining gold. He had even changed his hairstyle throughout the years, from a long, moon grey ponytail to the short, slightly messy fringe he wore it in now. He could go out onto the ice wearing nothing but his ice skates and pale skin, but the spectators and judges still wouldn’t be surprised. What else could he give them?

  _Vitya, you think too much._ His mother used to tell him. _Skate what you feel._

 So Viktor skated. He was rustier than he’d liked to admit, but that glimmer of passion broke through the murky waves of uncertainty and turmoil rolling through his heart as his blades glided across the smooth ice. Viktor thought back to being gifted his first pair of ice skates when he was four; bright blue, his favorite color, and remembered his mother’s scolding when he showed no caution in touching the metal blades. He remembered being such a young teenager when he received his first gold medal, the hope and joy and desire running through his veins. He remembered his first competitor, his last competitor, his first fan. And Viktor skated. And skated. And skated.

 He danced through awe-striking step sequences from dozens of different shows he had choreographed himself, followed by axel jumps that fell swiftly into beautiful combination spins. He put his arms above his head as he glided, allowing his hands to move about their own accord; raking through his moonstone hair, fingers dancing down his exposed neck, down his chest and extended behind him.

 Viktor didn’t allow himself to think. For once, he wasn’t Viktor, the greatest figure skater in the world, he wasn’t the Viktor who was born into a family who had accomplished amazing things and expected him to do the same. He was just _Viktor_ , the one who owned a poodle and liked looking up cute videos of dogs in the middle of the night and put way too much creamer into his coffee.

 He liked that Viktor best. So Viktor skated, and skated, and skated.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  _Katsuki Yuuri_

 

It took all of Yuuri’s courage to return to the Ice Castle the next day.

 It wasn’t by choice. If it were up to Yuuri, he would be sleeping in right now, trying to rest off the trauma and pretend that yesterday’s events hadn’t happened. Even deaf, being yelled at was awful, because you could pay more attention to the expression in the person’s eyes. You could see the anger, the underlying turmoil and frustration, could watch the flushed pink of their face darken to red which indicated the person was yelling louder with increasing fury.

 But being grabbed and slammed into a wall in the middle of a skating rink by a tall, muscular stranger? Forget it. Yuuri had endured all types of horrible people, ranging from gossiping teenagers in high school to menacing bullies, but never in his life had he felt more terrified and helpless. When the stranger had finally let him go, Yuuri had been too beside himself to figure out why. He was so distraught at the time that if you asked him now, he couldn’t even recall the color of the man’s eyes, the features of his face.

 Though he’d never admit it, Yuuri was still shaken up. He was frightened that the same man was going to show up today and harass him further, but Yuuri couldn’t stay home. Today was the highlight of his week, after all, the day lessons resumed with his student Aiko.

 As if on cue, a white suburban pulled up near the front of Ice Castle. Yuuri’s first smile in twenty-four hours broke out across his face as a peppy, curly-haired six year old practically leaped from the back seat of the suburban, bright pink skates in hand. She turned around to sign something to her mother, before running off with a toothy grin.

 She burst through the front doors, adjusting the enormous pink bow that matched her skates. Her flouncy black curls whipped around as she looked left and right, and when her eyes locked on her subject of searching, her face brightened in delight. _Yuuri!_ Yuuri watched his name on her lips and opened his arms, laughing as the little girl dropped her skates, sprinted, and hurled herself into his arms.

 Yuuri continued to laugh, truly laugh with glee as his arms locked around his student. He pulled back so he could sign, _I’m happy to see you too, Aiko!”_

The little girl blushed. Yuuri never expected her to admit her crush, but her fascination with him was nothing short of adorable. Yuuri assumed the crush had developed because of his love for skating, but mostly because Yuuri was the only other deaf person Aiko knew. Aiko’s parents were fluent in sign language, but they had expressed to him how much it meant to Aiko that she could communicate with another deaf person. It showed Aiko that people sharing her disability could grow up strong, smart, and talented.

 Yuuri didn’t think he was any of those things, but had been more than touched at the words.

  _Let’s skate!_ The girl signed enthusiastically, pulling back from Yuuri so she could jump up and down. _Skate! Skate! Skate!_

 Yuuri grinned, and chased after Aiko as she sprinted to the door that led to the colorful, smaller, adjacent rink: The Tots Rink. Mouth wide open in laughter, Aiko pulled Yuuri onto the ice and giggled when he grabbed the edge of the rink in surprise.

 Aiko began to do a little dance, throwing a glance over her shoulder every once and a while to make sure Yuuri was watching. She did adorable little twirls and a couple attempts at a jump that made Yuuri smile, along with a quirky little step sequence that she probably choreographed herself. Her little routine was only about thirty seconds, but it made Yuuri proud nonetheless.

  _You’ve been practicing!_ Yuuri signed happily, clapping his hands. _You’re a superstar, Aiko!_

The girl’s eyes lit up joyously, and then she began pointing at him frenziedly. _Your turn! Your turn!_ She mouthed. _Pleeeease Yuuri! Will you dance?_

There were very few people Yuuri skated for. Sweet Aiko was one of the few, so Yuuri nodded kindly and skated to the center of the ice.

Yuuri began to improve, starting with simple glides and twirls, but somehow his mindless improve morphed into something he’d been working on for months: Viktor Nikiforov’s rendition of _Stay Close to Me._

It was a difficult, tiresome dance, but despite the exhaustion it wracked through Yuuri’s limbs, there wasn’t any routine that made him feel more alive. He had never heard music in his life, but he knew that music made people feel emotion. It filled even the most acrid of people with hope and love, with compassion that struck the most tender part of their heartstrings.

Watching Viktor Nikiforov skate was Yuuri’s music.

The routine ended with Yuuri’s arms above his head, his chest heaving with exertion. He glanced over and grinned when he found Aiko shrieking with delight, her fists balled up and shaking with excitement.

  _Teach me, Yuuri!_ She signed, eyes alight with ambition. _I want to do that! Teach me to do that!_

And so the afternoon began. Yuuri started by running through simple tips to make her seem like she was gliding rather than walking across the ice, ways to propel herself in a way that didn’t look choppy. It had been a while since Aiko and him had had a lesson, so Yuuri made sure to refresh her on things he had taught her previously. They went on for an hour, but Aiko never tired. She was always ready to get back up when she fell, eager to soak in every twirl and tip Yuuri taught.

_Wonderful, Aiko!_ Yuuri signed enthusiastically, giving his student a huge smile and a thumbs up. Yuuri watched her lips part in an excited gasp at the praise, the six year old’s dark curls flouncing as she lifted up and down on her toes. _Careful,_ Yuuri signed, taking her hand to catch her from falling as they skated in a slow circle.

As he usually did, Yuuri took a little bit of down time with the young girl to go through what she had done well so far, and what she had to work on. Aiko watched Yuuri’s hands in rapt interest, her eyes lighting up at a compliment, nodding in understanding when Yuuri brought up an error. Her intelligence and eagerness to learn made her so easy to teach, and their relationship was very therapeutic for Yuuri. If the girl’s parents hadn’t insisted on paying Yuuri for his services, he would be her instructor for free.

_You’re going to be the best figure skater in Japan, Aiko!_ Yuuri gestured with a grin so wide it shifted his glasses, and meant it. Aiko was an exceptional ice skater and had loads of potential, with such ambition and drive that she sometimes left Yuuri in awe. She wasn’t fazed or discouraged by her disability like Yuuri was, and Yuuri truly believed she could rise to the top. Maybe she could even become a better figure skater than Viktor Nikiforov himself. She opened her mouth in a grin that matched Yuuri’s, but shook her head and pointed at Yuuri.

_You, you!_

The compliment made Yuuri flush with pride. He wasn’t even close to being the best figure skater in Japan, but if his skill meant he got to teach sweet little children like Aiko, then the years of practice were worth it.

They neared the small door of the ice rink, and Aiko tugged Yuuri’s sleeve. _Bathroom,_ she signed.

Yuuri nodded, and the two of them walked from the Tots Rink to the main facility after Yuuri helped her slip her skate guards on. Yuuri made sure she knew he would wait for her, and she nodded before running off to the girl’s restroom.

Content, Yuuri leaned against the blockade of the main rink from the spectator’s area, but startled when he realized there was someone on the ice. Yuuri squinted, adjusting his glasses, and it was all he could do from dropping his spectacles onto the ice as he covered his mouth with his hands.

That wasn’t just _anyone_ on the ice. The gold skates, the smoky grey hair, the beautiful, toned body that glided across the ice in such an ethereal manner that it was all Yuuri could do from bursting into tears…

No. This wasn’t just anybody. His mind wanted to doubt, but Yuuri would know that face blind, would be able to recognize this man by simply tracing his hands over the angelic features of his chiseled face. He had looked to that face in his happiest moments and in his worst, his figure plastered over almost every inch of Yuuri’s childhood room back at home. This was the man he had worshipped and idolized since he was twelve years old, the man whose skating routines were the most professional and beautiful in the world. Figure skating legend, Viktor Nikiforov.

But _why?_ Why in the world was Viktor _here_ of all places, when he could be anywhere? Viktor’s disappearance from the ice four months ago had crushed Yuuri, had caused Yuuri to wonder where in the world he had gone, and yet...here he was. Here he was, in Yuuri’s home town, skating on Yuuri’s ice. Yuuri would give anything in the world to talk to him, but Viktor probably didn’t know sign language. He would still give anything to exchange a picture, a smile, maybe even a hug, any sort of interaction with the man. Yuuri wouldn’t even mind if Viktor was yelling at him, as long as those beautiful eyes were trained on him.

Yuuri sighed happily, leaning over the wall of the rink as he studied his idol. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that he was here, but Yuuri decided he would leave the shrieking and weeping in hysteria until he was in the solitude of his own room. The trembling fingers of his left hand sunk into his rosy cheek, a dazed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Yuuri would find a way, he decided. Even though he couldn’t hear himself, he would practice speaking, something he was extremely self-conscious about, just to exchange a word with Viktor.

Yuuri spun and startled at the feeling of Yuuko tapping a finger on his shoulder. His eyes met hers and was perplexed to see a confused expression on her face. _What?_ Yuuri signed.

Yuuko had been his friend and rink mate since he was very young, and had picked up on a considerable amount of sign language. Yuuri read her lips carefully as she slowly mouthed, _You’re not upset._

Yuuri shook his head, confused. _Why would I be upset? I’m ecstatic! Though I have no idea why, my idol is here! Why is he here?! How_ long _has he been here?! Do you think he’d give me his autograph?!_ His face flushed with elation.

Yuuko’s face flashed with many different emotions, ranging from confused, to startled, to realization, to disappointment. Each emotion filled Yuuri with more confusion, and a bit of anxiety. _He’s been around here for a few months._

Yuuri balked, covering his hands with his mouth. Anger filled his veins, but it was short lived due to his ecstasy. _A FEW MONTHS?!_ He signed furiously. _Yuuko, why didn’t you tell me? This man is my inspiration, my hero--_

Yuuko grabbed his hands, laughing softly. _Yuuri, I wanted to_ _tell you so badly. You have_ no idea _how badly I wanted to tell you. You’ve been off at college, so when you arrived home a week ago, I tried to set it up so you would happen to be in the rink around the time Viktor arrives each day. However, Viktor using this rink is an extremely exclusive, classified situation, and he only comes during certain private hours. His old coach and family insisted on Viktor finding a lawyer to draft a contract, a contract saying that neither I nor Takeshi would say a word regarding Viktor’s whereabouts. I tried to drop hints when we texted, saying that there were a lot of exciting things going on at the rink and you should visit home soon, but you were so busy with that degree, Yuuri. I did the best I could._

Yuuri could barely think. His mind had gone into overdrive, and he felt as if he was merely existing in some strange dream. _Viktor Nikiforov,_ taking time off to relax in _Yuuri’s hometown_ , a little tourist city in Japan.

_But Yuuri,_ Yuuko mouthed, her grip on his hands softening, _I don’t understand why you aren’t upset. Viktor is the man who yelled at you yesterday, and you’re looking at him like you still worship him._

Yuuri froze. _I…_ His hand paused as he tried to find his train of thought. When his hands failed, he mouthed, _I don’t think I understood you correctly._

Yuuko’s eyes were sad. _He was the one who cornered you on the ice yesterday._

Yuuri’s heart beat sped up. His hands began to shake, and his eyes welled with fat tears. _No._ He mouthed, his lips wobbling. _Viktor is kind and loves people. He would never do that._ He wouldn’t. He _wouldn’t._ Yuuri was shaking his head, the movement causing the wetness in his eyes to spill down his cheeks.

_You’re right Yuuri, he is a very kind person, but yesterday he was under a lot of stress. He had found out that--”_

Yuuri ripped his hands from hers, sniffing profusely. His watery eyes turned towards the rink, and he realized that Yuuko was right. He had been terrified yesterday, so scared of the person yelling at him that he had never really gotten a good look at the person’s face. But he recognized those graceful, extended hands, hands that had been painfully clamped around Yuuri’s wrists. He recognized the curved, soft mouth, a mouth with such a tender smile that Yuuri couldn’t believe it had been parted in harsh shouts directed his way. With a gasp, Yuuri realized that most of his recognizably silver hair had been covered with a black beanie.

Yuuri had thought Viktor was different. Viktor was kind to his fans and never rejected their requests for pictures and autographs, kind to his coaches, kind to his skating peers. Anyone with eyes could see that Viktor was not full of himself like some other figure skaters were, and was always sweet and sincere in every interview Yuuri had watched.

It was easy for celebrities to feign kindness and sincerity, but Viktor had such a gentle easiness and playfulness about him that Yuuri had always thought, always _knew_ he was different. It was the reason Yuuri had looked up to him for so many years.

His eyes once again welled with tears as he realized how wrong he had been. Viktor was phenomenal at making his audience think otherwise, but for all these years, he had been nothing but a self-centered celebrity whose fame had eaten up the best of him. It was the reason why Viktor had been able to march up to Yuuri with such ferocity, demanding that Yuuri get off his ice. _His_ ice. People like Viktor thought they owned everything.

With a sickened scoff, Yuuri turned away. His eyes found his student who was making her way back to where Yuuri stood, and Yuuri vigorously wiped at his eyes. He took deep breaths and put on a happy face, discreetly signing to Yuuko that he would be alright. She took his hand again and squeezed it, her eyes forlorn, before making her way back to the front desk.

_Do you think we can skate on that ice today?_ Aiko pointed to Viktor with a toothy grin. _If I skate on that ice, I’ll look just like him!_

Yuuri took Aiko’s hand with a shaky smile. _Once that man is done skating, we can._ He led her to the entrance of the Tots Rink, casting one look over his shoulder at Viktor as he opened the door.

Viktor’s skating had ceased to slow gliding. The tip of his blades hit the edge of the rink with a small thud, his eyes downcast.

Heart aching, Yuuri slammed the door behind him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Viktor Nikiforov_

 

Viktor told himself that for once he wouldn’t think, that he’d lose himself in the blissfulness of gliding across the ice, but the more he focused on _not thinking,_ the more his mind plagued him.

_This is what you live for, what you were born to do._ Viktor tried to calm himself as his eyes fluttered closed. _There’s no need to be afraid of the things you love._

_But there is,_ Viktor wanted to counter that voice. _We fear the things we love because there’s a chance we could lose those things._ And Viktor was about to be on the losing side of his career, and for that he was terrified.

The fear that made his ears ring caused his blades to glide to a stop as they softly thudded the edge of the rink. He hung his head, and was ashamed to find tears filling his eyes. He was a twenty seven year old man, and besides, he had brought this upon himself. When he began figure skating as a professional career, he knew it would have to eventually cease to an end. Viktor simply hadn’t estimated just how quickly that time would come.

The sound of a door shutting jolted Viktor out of his thoughts. He blinked dazedly, eyes darting around lazily for the source of the sound, before he sighed. He needed a drink.

The bathroom was mercifully empty. Viktor trudged to the mirror and splashed cold water on his face, scrubbing vigorously. When he met his own sapphire eyes in the mirror, he couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows. The eye that was visible and not hidden by his silver fringe held a deep, purple circle underneath. Where had the lines of a downward pull at the corner of his lips come from, when there were usually dimples from a heart shaped smile? Viktor’s fingers traced his hairline delicately as he noticed that he had allowed his hair to grow out. The fringe on the left side of his face that usually brushed the top of his cheekbone was now ghosting right above his upper lip.

Viktor didn’t look like his usual self, full of carefree joy and childlike playfulness. He looked...unhappy.

The sight of himself made Viktor realize how exhausted he was. As he trudged out of the bathroom, he noticed a casual sitting area with a coffee table and plush chairs. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, but a quick break wouldn’t do him any harm. A long breath escaped him as he sunk into a loveseat.

Viktor hadn’t realized he’d nodded off until the sound of shrieking laughter jolted him awake. Springing upright, he searched for the windows, hoping that he hadn’t been sleeping for so long that it’d gotten dark outside. A sigh of relief blew past his lips to see the afternoon still bright, delicate piles of sparkling snow collecting on the tall windowsills. Blinking the tiredness out of his eyes, he glanced at the watch on his wrist.

He’d only napped for about twenty minutes, but his feet ached from the tightness of his skates. Carefully wobbling to his feet, Viktor stretched his arms above his head and yawned, joints cracking.

Viktor once again heard that shriek of laughter. His bleary eyes scoured the rink lazily, and the sleep was instantly punched from his body when he found the source.

Barely refraining from tripping over himself, Viktor floundered towards the edge of the rink, his knuckles white against the rink’s barricade. Gasping, he watched as that beautiful raven-haired ice skater, whom had been nearly the only thing he’d been thinking about, chased a little girl around the ice.

The little girl was holding glasses to her face, glasses Viktor recognized vaguely as Yuuri’s. Yuuri was stumbling blindly around the ice, a silly smile on his face as his hands pawed out in front of him for the giggling girl. She shrieked with laughter as Yuuri almost lost his footing, but instead of skating away once more, the girl glided right into Yuuri’s arms.

Viktor’s breath was stolen from his lungs as Yuuri kneeled and pulled the child tenderly in his arms. The skater let out a little huff of laughter of his own as the girl continued to giggle, placing the glasses crookedly on Yuuri’s face. Yuuri blinked as his sight returned to him, and then stood, putting his hands on his hips.

_That wasn’t very nice!_ Yuuri mouthed, but his eyes were full of humor. The corners of his already smiling mouth pulled up further when the girl made some kind of hand gesture towards him.

_Hand gesture…_

Viktor had seen similar movements before. A strangled gasp escaped past his jaw-slack mouth as he realized that Yuuri was playing on the ice with a _deaf little girl._

Viktor thought it was impossible for his affections for Yuuri Katsuki to grow. But as he watched him gesture something back that made the little girl laugh with glee, he knew it was no longer simply affection.

 It was love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thought process whilst writing the end of this chapter:
> 
> Me: maybe I shouldn't end the chapter this way, Viktor would never fall in love with someone just from watching them do something beautiful.  
> Me: *thinks of banquet scene*  
> Me: lol nah
> 
> Viktor/Yuuri interaction in the next chapter ;D My tumblr is @yuuriskates , never hesitate to drop by and say hi! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, episode 12 absolutely KILLED ME, how about you guys? Time to drown in fanart and fanfiction until season two is announced! :,D
> 
> My beta is swamped with college and wasn't able to revise this chapter, so I apologize for any mistakes. Thank you again for the constant support on this fic, you all are so lovely!!

Of course. _Of course._

Of course Yuuri Katsuki, an already beautiful, adorable person, would have to fly off the charts of unattainableness by being an altruistic mentor to a little girl who shared his disability. On a scale of one to ten Yuuri was somewhere around an eight thousand, while Viktor was a solid four and a half on a good day.

Viktor was crouched low against the wall of the rink, his eyes the only thing above the solid blue of the barricade. His forehead was lightly pressed against the transparent glass he was peering through, trying to make his creeping as inconspicuous as possible. For a moment, Yuuri and his little friend had gotten dangerously close to Viktor’s hiding spot, but with a slightly unmanly squeal, Viktor had ducked down in the nick of time.

“I have reached a new personal low.” Viktor muttered in Russian.

Viktor tugged the edges of his beanie further down his face and groaned. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t watch as Yuuri skated with the little girl in circles, their hands connected between them, the girl shrieking with laughter. This level of cuteness had to have been illegal. It was causing Viktor pain, genuine _pain_ to watch, especially when Yuuri’s scarf flew over his mouth and he squeaked in surprise, breaking his hold on the girl’s hands to adjust it.

“Nope.” Viktor muttered, shaking his head. “Nope, nope, nope, that’s not cute at all. That wasn’t endearing, or lovable, or sweet—“

“Viktor?”

Viktor _shrieked._

Whirling around and breathing heavily, Viktor squawked at Yuuko, who was gazing down at him amusedly. Mortified he’d been caught crouched on his knees, acting like a complete stalker, he quickly altered the subject of blame. “Yuuko!” He scolded, catching his breath. “You scared the living _glyadelki_ out of me!”

Yuuko snorted, covering her laugh with a hand. “What were you doing just now?” She inquired teasingly.

“Oh, I, um, lost a contact. It’s around here somewhere—“

"You don’t even wear glasses!” Yuuko laughed.

“That’s because I always have my contacts in!”

“Uh huh.” Yuuko bit her lip, grinning. “You’re really that enamored by Yuuri, huh?” She continued, raising a groomed brow. She folded her arms across her chest and smirked. “I don’t blame you. He really is an incredible person. Also, if I happened to be an actual attacker, that karate stance wouldn’t be nearly enough to frighten an enemy.”

Viktor looked down at himself, and red began to creep up his neck as he realized his hands were bladed, his arms extended and bent at the elbows.

Well, at least this situation couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Hell, Viktor could be in his underwear, for all he cared. He had lost his pride the moment he’d roared at sweet, virtuous Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuko seemed to notice his change in demeanor. “All it would take is a few words, you know.” she began, sitting down and crossing her legs so she was parallel to Yuuri. “Yuuri is shy and timid, but you’re practically his idol. If you expressed to him how sorry you were and that it was all a huge misunderstanding, he’d listen.”

Viktor sighed sadly, recalling the horrible day in which he had ruined everything. He was about to tell Yuuko that it was no use, until he processed the whole weight of her words. “W-wait…” He stammered, blinking. _“Idol?”_

Yuuko’s eyes widened, and she pursed her lips. “Oh! Uh, I…” Viktor watched her think, but she finally huffed, defeated. “I probably shouldn’t have said that. Yuuri is going to kill me, but, well…” She scratched the back of her neck, and Viktor stared her down, willing her to continue. “You’re kind of his hero. He’s admired you since we were very young, and the reason he picked up figure skating was because he watched you on television as a child, and was so moved by your performances that he vowed he would work until he was a champion someday. Because of the contract, I had to keep you being here a secret from him, but there is no one in this world who looks…looked up to you as much as Yuuri did.”

She said the last sentence very quietly, and the change in tense made Viktor’s stomach drop. How could he have made such a terrible mistake?

“But like I said,” Yuuko recovered quickly, “He’s been in awe of you for so many years, he’ll listen, he can’t _not_ listen to you.”

“I don’t want him to listen to me because I’m famous!” Viktor suddenly barked, running his hands through his hair, frustrated. “Yuuko, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I _really_ like Yuuri. I know I haven’t even properly met him, but I see his passion and care for the world and the people in his life from the way he skates, from the way he expresses himself on the ice. I see someone pure and selfless, someone worthy of love, and that was only proven when I watched him mentor that little girl.”

“This thing about me being his idol only makes me feel worse, and makes me feel as if he’ll never talk to me out of forgiveness. It makes me think as if he’ll never forgive me, but will tell me it’s alright because I’m a celebrity, because if he doesn’t I’ll do something like lash out at him or make some derogatory social media post. I want to _know_ Yuuri, I want to spend time with him and learn about him and like I said before I know it sounds crazy but I, I…” He made an irritated noise. “Oh, God. Yuuko, what do I _do?”_

She was looking at him with soft but fond eyes. “You can begin with an apology, Viktor. And what you’re worrying about makes sense, but honestly, I think you should just express those thoughts to Yuuri. It may overwhelm him a bit, but at least everything would be out in the open. Or if it’s too soon for that, if you want more time to lay everything on the table, invite him to coffee or dinner or something. He loves food, especially katsudon.”

Viktor hated the idea of Yuuri going along with him just because of the intimidation of being asked out by his former idol, but Viktor took Yuuko’s suggestion very seriously. Viktor couldn’t just skate out on the ice in that instant and pour his heart out, it would kill the poor man.

“I’ll take it slow, then.” Viktor decided.

Yuuko smiled. “Good.” She carefully got to her feet and turned from Viktor, but paused suddenly. Without looking over her shoulder, she said bemusedly, “And you’re right. You _are_ a little crazy.” Viktor couldn’t help but laugh as she walked away, shaking her head. He turned his attention back to the ice and sighed.

 _Crazy he was indeed._ Struck with a sudden burst of determination, Viktor grabbed his phone from his pocket and pulled up his internet browser, making sure the gestures he’d been practicing the night before were correct.

 

* * *

 

_Katsuki Yuuri_

Yuuri was wearing contacts and didn’t need the accessory Aiko had snatched from his face, but he had pretended to be blurry-sighted anyway.

A secret pleasure Yuuri had been indulging in ever since he got his contacts a month ago was the stylish aesthetic of non-prescription glasses. He very rarely wore contacts, but he liked how his clear-framed spectacles made him look, and Yuuri had needed an extra boost of self-confidence to get through that day.

Yuuri had humored Aiko and stumbled around with his arms out, trying not to grin as the girl shrieked with delight. They were at the end of their lesson, and Aiko had decided it was playtime until her parents arrived to pick her up. Yuuri had skated sloppily skated in the opposite direction of Aiko, and pretended to be surprised when the girl pivoted and skated into Yuuri’s arms instead. When Aiko tired of this game, she had taken Yuuri’s hands and skated in circles with him until both of them grew dizzy.

Something behind Yuuri caught Aiko’s rapt attention. Yuuri watched her face light up, and the word _Mama!_ Form on her lips. Yuuri spun around, and waved happily to Aiko’s mother, Jiayi, a lovely Chinese woman who bore Aiko’s dark curls and eyes.

 _I’ve been watching for a few minutes, Yuuri, and I can tell how much Aiko has improved!_ Jiayi signed with a smile as Yuuri and Aiko glided towards where she was standing. _Our family cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done._

Yuuri’s heart swelled, and he raised his arms to sign back the moment that Aiko began gesturing enthusiastically. _Yuuri taught me a step sequence! Watch, mama, watch!_

Yuuri smiled as Aiko danced. He tried not to think of the fact that the sequence he had taught her was one inspired by Viktor Nikiforov himself, the man who had built Yuuri up from the very beginning over a span of years, only to break him in one day.

When Aiko had finished the little routine, Jiayi’s eyes were shining. She clapped for her daughter, but her focus was on Yuuri.

 _Nothing makes me happier than seeing my little girl so happy like this._ She signed, eyes gleaming. _She’s very fond of you. Same time next week?_

Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat, sure that his eyes were as watery as Jiayi’s. He hadn’t received praise so meaningful in a long time. _Same time next week._ He assured.

 _Wonderful. Let’s go, Aiko!_ After squeezing Yuuri’s middle, Aiko exited the rink and took her mother’s hand.

 _See you next week, Aiko!_ Yuuri grinned at the pair as they made their way towards the front, and it wasn’t until Aiko was working her skates off her feet when Yuuri turned away.

A soft, genuine smile tugged at the corners of Yuuri’s lips as he made his way to the opposite end of the rink. Even though it was for only one person, Yuuri was making a difference, and being recognized for that was enough to make him happy for the rest of the week, despite his emotional exhaustion. He closed his eyes and sighed, the ever-present silence in his mind as smooth and soothing as the ice he glided across.

Usually Yuuri hated having his eyes closed. Being deaf was one thing, but being deaf _and_ not being able to see anything was nothing short of horrifying. When Yuuri was young, he had horrible trouble going to sleep at night for the fear that something would attempt to attack him, and he would have no mind of the situation until it was actually happening. Though he hated to admit it, the fear had truly never died out. There were still nights when Yuuri would wake up cold and shaking from a dream where he closed his eyes, and could never open them again.

Like most children, there were times in Yuuri’s life when other children would bully him. It was never serious or threatening, just typical playground taunts as he walked home from school, but there were a few instances where other kids would take his glasses. They didn’t understand the true blunt of what they were doing, since the kids who picked on him didn’t go to his school for the deaf, but it didn’t make the occurrences any less traumatizing for Yuuri. He would lay there shrieking and wailing, curled in a ball, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see or hear if the kids ran away with his imperative access to the rest of the world.

His bullies always felt remorseful once they understood Yuuri’s disability and understood that they had done more than intended, but that didn’t keep Yuuri from developing a fear of losing his sight. When he had been prescribed with contacts a month ago, he continued to wear glasses with clear frames. A large part of it truly was because he _loved_ the aesthetic of glasses, but he also felt very naked without them. If he’d happened to be wearing his real glasses, if Aiko had snatched them and skated away, he probably would have broken down and had a meltdown on the spot.

It was a weakness, but he couldn’t help it.

When he reached the opposite exit of the rink, he carefully stepped off the ice towards his shoes and skating duffel. Bending over to unlace his skates, Yuuri watched a pair of feet step into his line of sight.

Feet cladded with gold skates.

Yuuri felt his breath escape him in a long, shaky blow, his fingers trembling as they stumbled over the laces. He pretended that he hadn’t seen the black leather and trademark gold of Viktor Nikiforov’s skates, but Yuuri’s obvious quivering, which was quickly working its way up his arms, wasn’t going to fool anybody.

 _What does he want from me?_ Yuuri’s heart pounded. _He’s hurt me enough. Has he come to harass me again?_ Yuuri’s eyes filled with tears, but he clenched his fists as he realized that the tears weren’t from sadness.

They were from _anger._

Yuuri finally looked up from where he was hunched over, his watery but furious eyes meeting the sapphire blue of his former idol’s.

Viktor Nikiforov looked startled, and even stumbled away a step, but Yuuri didn’t back down. He stood and shoved the figure skating legend straight in the chest, rage suddenly coursing through his veins.

 _What do you want from me? Leave me alone!_ Yuuri mouthed. Yuuri wished he could scream at Viktor the way Viktor had screamed at him, but as always, Yuuri’s insecurities won over the best of him. _You’ve gotten what you wanted, you’ve hurt me. You’ve made me afraid. I’ve dealt with people like you, and I don’t care who you are. All I know is that people like you want the exact same reaction from people like me, and you’re not going to get it this time. Get. Away. From. Me._ Yuuri didn’t know how much of his mouthing the man had understood, but he shoved him between his last words for emphasis. Of all messages to get across, Yuuri wanted at least that one to register.

There was a part of Yuuri who still cared deeply for Viktor Nikiforov. It was the Yuuri who had asked for posters of Viktor for every Christmas, the Yuuri who had named a poodle strikingly similar to Viktor’s after him, the Yuuri who observed Viktor Nikiforov’s skating and saw life and love. Despite what Viktor had done, Yuuri stumbled back. He took in Viktor’s shocked, saddened expression, his mouth that was slightly parted, those expressive blue eyes that were full of remorse, and Yuuri began to cry.

He had _shoved_ someone, he had shoved the man who had filled him with ambition and inspiration and spurts of passion that had chiseled Yuuri into the skater he was today. He had shoved and expressed his boiling anger to his role-model, to the subject of his affections for years and years, but that wasn’t the main reason Yuuri was crying. Yuuri now knew that his idol wasn’t the person Yuuri had truly believed him to be, wasn’t warm, or kind, or loving. He was selfish and detestable, and for that, Yuuri cried. He’d wasted _so many years_.

He wasn’t ashamed. In fact, he barely cared as he collapsed on the bench he’d previously been sitting on, his face in his hands as he wept. He hoped Viktor was watching. He hoped he saw Yuuri’s devastation and realized what a horrible person he was. He hoped he watched Yuuri and felt _regret,_ regret for who he was, regret for what he’d done, the same way Yuuri was regretting investing so much time and hope in this man.

When Yuuri opened his eyes again, Viktor was kneeling in front of him. Yuuri reluctantly met his stare, and some of his anguish was shaken off when he saw that Viktor’s eyes were as blotchy as Yuuri’s were, and full of tears. Yuuri watched in fascination as Viktor slowly raised his hands.

 _Words cannot express how remorseful I am for what I’ve done._ His sign language was sloppy, and his fingers were shaking. _I shouldn’t have ever lashed out at you. I am so sorry._

Yuuri was too shocked to reply. Viktor knew sign language? Or had he learned just those words, so he could apologize in the way that was most familiar to Yuuri?

Though he was still deeply hurt, and quite confused, a small, pathedic part of Yuuri’s chest fluttered at the thought.

 _I have no real excuse, but I want to explain._ Yuuri watched, his mind a blank canvas as Viktor’s head dropped pitifully. He rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, displaying the lock screen to Yuuri.

 _See this dog?_ Viktor said, pointing to the screen. _A few days ago, he was very sick in the pet hospital. He has an illness called Cushing’s, and the day I yelled at you was the day he got ahold of some sticky buns and they got lodged in his throat. Because of his already fragile state, the doctors didn’t think he was going to make it. When I came to work, I was terrified, and so emotional that I could barely think. So I lashed out at the most convenient target._ Yuuri watched as Viktor’s expression tighten in agony. _That target being you._ Tears streamed down Viktor’s face.

 _I know to many people dogs are just dogs, and I know that it may seem like a silly thing to get upset over. My friends back in Russia always tease me, saying that I am going to end up marrying Makkachin instead of marrying a man or woman._ Viktor’s lips twitched into a small, broken smile. _But the truth is, Yuuri, Makkachin has been the only thing that has remained constant in my life, has been the only thing that makes me feel at home, no matter where I am. Competitors and fans fall from my life. I’m almost never able to be with my family. I outgrow coaches, and move on to new ones. My career forces me to move from place to place, city to city, never really knowing where I’m going to end up when my skating days are over. But my dog?_ His lip wobbled. _My dog never leaves. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but it wasn’t just my dog’s life that was threatened that day. I was terrified that if Makkachin died, I would never feel at home again._

Yuuri wanted to feel angry. He really did, but as he watched this man fall apart at Yuuri’s feet, he found that he couldn’t.

 Yuuri could never imagine feeling as if he didn’t have a home. He had always looked at Viktor Nikiforov as some sort of god, which had made Yuuri subconsciously exclude Viktor from the majority who yearned the basic needs of comfort, such as love in a home. Yuuri had always assumed that Viktor was happy where he was.

How stupid had he been? Yuuri had always seen Viktor as an emotional, loving person. Someone who cared so deeply for others, who was expressing his emotions to a nobody like Yuuri, could never be happy with constantly being removed from people’s lives. Had Yuuri truly believed all these years that Viktor was _happy_ like this?

Yuuri found that his perspective of Viktor drastically changed in the few moments he watched Viktor lament. Yuuri wasn’t looking down at some holy, faultless being. He was looking down at a person, a person who was hurting.

Even though Viktor had done something to Yuuri that was undoubtedly awful, humans were allowed to make mistakes, regardless of who the hell Viktor was and what he’d accomplished. Yuuri decided he would forgive him, _not_ because Viktor was his idol, _not_ because he was a skating legend, but because Viktor was a human whose fame didn’t excuse him from making mistakes. Viktor wasn’t a monster, he was _human_ , and he had simply let his emotions get the best of him.

Yuuri of all people could understand that, and was foolish for putting Viktor on such a high pedestal for so many years. But then again, Viktor _was human_ , and it was okay for Yuuri to be angry at him. He certainly still was, but wasn’t about to let his anger get the best of him like it had gotten the best of Viktor. He could express his disquiet later, but for now, a peaceful approach would probably be the best for both of them.

 _Is…_ Yuuri began to sign, but he wasn’t sure Viktor would understand. Instead, he gently took Viktor’s phone from his hand and tapped at the screen, pointing to the picture of the apricot poodle. _Is he okay?_

Viktor seemed to deflate at that, his shoulders hunching close to Yuuri’s as he did. His soft mouth fell open as he leaned over Yuuri, his expression unreadable. It was an expression that was still agonized, but his irises had lit up, lit up with a fondness that Yuuri wasn’t sure how to interpret.

Yuuri felt the familiar flush that indicated his cheeks were reddening as Viktor took in his face, drank up every inch of Yuuri with those poignant turquoise eyes. _Yes,_ he finally mouthed, his eyes hooded. Yuuri felt Viktor’s hand wrap around Yuuri’s, which was wrapped around the phone. _Yes, he’s magnificent._

Viktor and Yuuri stared at one another, Yuuri gawking stupidly, Viktor gazing with that strange expression that frazzled Yuuri’s brain. Yuuri realized that he was still holding Viktor’s phone, which Viktor had obviously just tried to gently pry from him.

With a mortified squawk, Yuuri handed the phone over and ducked away to finish unlacing one of his skates. He couldn’t help but scream internally as Viktor Nikiforov, figure skating legend, unlaced the other.

_No. Not ‘figure skating legend.’ This is simply Viktor Nikiforov, a normal person just like you are, and you’re still angry with him._

His mind told him these words in a calm, rational voice, but his heart fangirled like Yuri Plisetsky’s creepy cat followers.

 _Yuuri,_ Yuuri blushed as he watched his name form on Viktor’s lips. _I hope this isn’t too forward, but…I’d like to take you out to dinner. Not just as an apology dinner, but, well..._ Viktor paused to scratch the back of his neck. _I’ve been watching you skate the past couple of days, and your beautiful technique and obvious love for what you do has put me in awe. I want to get to know you, I want to know what has inspired you to skate so beautifully._

Yuuri felt that familiar, life-long devotion and tenderness he had felt for the Russian skater resurface. He was still angry, furious even, but instead of dwelling on negative emotions, Yuuri gripped the feelings of warmth and passion and let his heart _drown in it_.

 _You._ The word spun and spun in Yuuri’s chest. _You alone, Viktor Nikiforov. You have inspired me, have been my inspiration since I was in elementary school._

Instead of telling Viktor this, Yuuri offered him a tiny, bashful smile. _Will there be pork cutlet bowls?_ He mouthed.

Yuuri watched as Viktor’s face split into one of the loveliest heart-shaped smiles he had ever seen.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* when Viktor said "he is magnificent" he wasn't just talking about his dog ;)
> 
> As always, never be afraid to drop by and say hi on my tumblr!! :)
> 
> yuuriskates.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait you guys!! The holidays have made things pretty hectic, but I made this chapter extra long to make up for it. :) I hope you enjoy!!

 

As Yuuri put his skates into his locker, Viktor whipped out his phone and did his very best to text Yuuko discreetly.

_ Where should I take him to dinner, Yuuko?  _ He typed furiously as Yuuri stood on his tiptoes, rummaging through his skating bag.  _ I want this to be special. _

Viktor really didn’t want to mess this up. There were several wonderful restaurants in this town (It was a tourist city, after all) but he wanted to cater to Yuuri’s interests as much as possible. This wouldn’t be like any other date Viktor had been on, wouldn’t be a fling that began with a cheesy bouquet of roses and ended with an empty promise of a phone call.

_ I don’t know, Vitya! Find a place with good katsudon! _

Viktor whined at the text.  _ I don’t even know what that is!!!! Yuuko please,  help me out!!!!!!! :’’’( _

A tap on his shoulder caused Viktor to jump. He met Yuuri’s large, coffee-brown eyes that were slightly concerned.  _ Viktor? Is everything alright?  _ The black haired skater mouthed.

Viktor’s forced grin caused Yuuri to blink. “Absolutely! I’m great! Why wouldn’t I be great?”

Yuuri looked like he wanted to question him, but didn’t press.  _ O-okay. Well, I’m going to shower and change really quickly, so…  _ He trailed off, rubbing his arm.

Viktor smiled. “Alright! Take your time!”

Yuuri nodded. He shifted on his feet, and Viktor wondered why he looked so flustered all of a sudden.

Yuuri cleared his throat, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.  _ Um, Viktor, the showers are right over there, and, um… _

“Oh!” Viktor blurted stupidly, slapping a hand over his forehead. “R-right! I’ll just…yeah.” He stumbled out of the men’s locker room, barely catching himself from tripping on the way out. Why was it that if he wanted to, he could skate on ice completely naked without a hint of shame, but Yuuri Katsuki could have him blushing and stammering in less than a minute? He was a twenty-seven year old man, for fuck’s sake! He leaned against the door of the locker room with a hand raking through his hair, wondering how he’d become so damn pathetic.

His pocket suddenly vibrated, and Viktor sighed in relief when he saw it was a text from Yuuko. He couldn’t begin to pronounce the name of the restaurant the text suggested even if he tried, but Yuuko had graciously supplied him with the address and some of the best dishes there. It was a short walk from the Ice Castle, and Viktor double checked to make sure he’d brought his credit card.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d waited, but soon enough Yuuri was striding out of the locker room, raking his hands through his disheveled, wet mop of black hair. He was wearing an oversized, warm looking navy sweater that was way too long for him, the sight of him alone enough to make Viktor combust.

“Ready to go?” Viktor asked, trying his hardest not to pay attention to the way Yuuri’s skin was still flushed from the hot shower water.

Yuuri nodded shyly, and the two made their way towards the rink exit.

_ Where are we going?  _ Yuuri mouthed.

“It’s a surprise, of course!” Viktor chirped, thankful for an excuse to not verbally butcher the restaurant name.

 

* * *

 

 

The first couple of minutes were rather uncomfortable.

Viktor so desperately wanted to dive into conversation, but he didn’t know what to say without sounding too forward. Yuuri looked painfully uncomfortable, picking at the sleeve of his navy sweater as he bit his lip.

“I loved watching you skate with that little girl today.” Viktor began, his voice warm with fondness.

Yuuri didn’t reply, and Viktor knew that if he reached a hand out, he could probably touch the awkwardness in the air.

It took Viktor a moment to realize that the silence was because Yuuri was still looking down at his sweater, and wouldn’t know if Viktor was talking unless he alerted him. Viktor rolled his eyes at his forgetfulness and reached out to gently tap Yuuri on the hand.

The man startled, jumping out of his skin at the light touch. He seemed to realize his mistake.  _ Sorry!  _ He mouthed, his face breaking into a sheepish smile.  _ I didn’t mean to ignore you. Did you say something? _

Viktor smiled. “No need to apologize. I was just saying how much I loved watching you skate with that little girl today. Is she a family friend?”

_ Sort of.  _ Yuuri mouthed. He looked incredibly nervous.  _ The girl’s mother came into Ice Castle a couple of years ago, begging Yuuko to help her find an ice skating instructor for her deaf daughter. They’d looked everywhere, and though Aiko loves skating with all her heart, they were going to give up searching because no one could cater to her disability at such a young age.  _ Yuuri’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, smiling as he continued the rest of the story.  _ Yuuko told Aiko’s mother of me, and her family was so ecstatic that we began lessons that day. _

Viktor’s eyes dilated, his mouth falling open. “That’s amazing.” He breathed.

Yuuri took time out of his hectic schedule to give skating lessons to a deaf little girl.

He mentally archived that detail in the things he knew and admired about Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri shrugged modestly.  _ It’s a mutually beneficial relationship, really. It helps me relax as much as it helps Aiko learn. You’ve inspired millions of people with your skating, Viktor, so I’m really not that amazing in comparison. _

Viktor waved him off. “Yuuri, all I do is dance on an ice rink and get pretty necklaces for it. You’re taking time away from yourself and your college studies to help a little girl who can’t get help from anywhere else. Without you, that child would have no one to mentor or tutor her, would have no way to grow and prosper as a skater. And you know what, Yuuri? The fact that you do that and are changing her life for the better is pretty fucking amazing.”

Yuuri’s eyes began to gleam, and he lowered his head.  _ Thank you, Viktor.  _ Yuuri’s smile was shaky.  _ That means more than you know. _

The silence between them was no longer uncomfortable. The expression on Yuuri’s face that radiated pure, undiluted contentment was a sight that Viktor wanted painted on his heart, there for him to keep and cherish forever. Viktor took a moment to memorize the gentle slope of his smile, his downcast eyes that had the shadows of his lashes fluttering across the apples of his flushed cheeks. Viktor vowed he would do anything to keep that stunningly beautiful look on Yuuri’s face.

“You look so handsome tonight, Yuuri.” Viktor grinned, voicing the thoughts that had been rolling in his head all night. “I mean, the first time I saw you I didn’t think you could get any prettier. But here you are, wearing a scarf that really brings out the shade of coffee in your eyes, with those cute glasses which makes that happy gleam in them shine even brighter. You’re undoubtedly radiant.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, blinking at Viktor’s lips as if he hadn’t interpreted correctly.

“I mean that, too.” Viktor smiled. “You know, Yuuri, for the past couple of days I haven’t been able to do anything but watch you. The way you skate is truly unbelievable.” He leaned his elbows on the table, eyes catching on the dusting of freckles across Yuuri’s nose, which were accented by the pink underneath. “I wonder what goes through that head of yours as you skate. Who do you skate for?  You dance in a way that churns emotions, Yuuri, in a way that enraptures audiences. Why don’t you skate competitively? I know it’s not because of your deafness.”

Viktor couldn’t help himself as he reached a hand up, smoothing the raven hair back from Yuuri’s forehead. “I’ve competed against other deaf skaters, but that doesn’t matter. Your potential is enough to surpass  _ any _ professional figure skater I’ve encountered.“ His fingers danced against Yuuri’s hairline, catching on the soft, slightly disheveled strands by one of his ears. He was about to take his hand away when it happened.

Yuuri’s face hardened, and his hand snatched Viktor’s wrist and held in a white-knuckled, iron grip.

Viktor balked. “Yuuri.” He spluttered, at a loss. “W-what did—“

_ Stop.  _ Yuuri mouthed firmly, closing his eyes.  _ Stop, Viktor. Stop. _

Viktor was so shocked he could barely speak. The evening had been going so nicely, but the turn of events reminded him of a specific event that sent his gut churning.

Yuuri set his glass down, his frown etching deeper into the corners of his mouth. The expression looked abnormal on his usually gentle face.  _ I don’t  _ want  _ to hear words of flattery.  _ He mouthed, letting out a frustrated huff of air.  _ Viktor, I barely know you outside of being your fan for many years. I don’t think you’re a superficial person, but a part of me thinks that you’re laying it on thick because…because…  _ Yuuri visibly struggled.  _ I don’t know!  _ He threw his hands up.

_ I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m still angry with you. Of course I’ve forgiven you and want to get to know you too, but I don’t want a conversation that neither of us deserves. _

Viktor blinked. He wasn’t sure what Yuuri’s last sentence was supposed to mean, and as much as it hurt Viktor, he could see why Yuuri was suspicious. If he was in Yuuri’s shoes and a stranger started showering him with overbearing compliments, after initially  _ attacking _ him, much less, he would wonder of the person’s true intentions. Viktor was always told that he came off a little too strong at times and was often more overdramatic than not, but had never been really called out on it until that moment with Yuuri.

Viktor winced. So much for taking it slow.

_ I believe you when you said you wanted to get to know me, but I want to get to know you too. Don’t talk about me, tell me about your favorite colors, your favorite foods, why you chose Japan of all places to run away to. Tell me about the first time you ever skated, if it was difficult picking out Makkachin from a litter of similar puppies, or if it was love at first sight. _

Even though Yuuri had said he’d forgiven Viktor, a horrible pain clanged through his head. It was a pain that was familiar, a pain that sat in the back of his heart constantly, just waiting to be worsened by Viktor screwing up time after time again. Viktor was so unintentionally selfish, and never failed to fuck everything up. He  _ always. Fucked. Everything. Up. _

Viktor’s face twisted, and he watched Yuuri’s expression change from angry to surprised as Viktor’s wrist began to shake in Yuuri’s firm hold. Viktor shamefully lowered his head, too overcome with emotion to properly speak. But even if he did, what could he possibly say?

Viktor recalled Yuuko’s previous words to him.  _ With Yuuri, it’s best to say exactly what’s on your mind. _

_ I always mess everything up.  _ Viktor mouthed to Yuuri, lips trembling.  _ You gave me a second chance, and I ruined it. I ruin everything. I’m so sorry, Yuuri, your life would be much better off if I’d never stormed into it in the first place. _

Viktor’s crestfallen head shot up when he heard a huff of laughter.

_ Now you’re just being overdramatic.  _ Yuuri was smiling and shaking his head.  _ All you did was overwhelm me a little, it’s nothing to get upset over. _

After a beat of silence, Viktor said quietly, “That’s what my little brother always tells me.” He sighed. “That I’m ridiculously overdramatic. That I’ll probably die with an arm thrown over my eyes, like a dress-cladded damsel from some shitty housewife romance novel.”

Yuuri grinned.  _ Your brother is very observant.  _ The younger man pursed his lips, a hand absently reaching up to toy with the ends of his scarf.  _ Tell me more about this brother of yours. _

Like water rushing out of a dam, Viktor told Yuuri  _ everything _ .

He told Yuuri about the day his mother and stepfather came home with an angry, screeching blond child, and how in that respect, Yuri hadn’t changed at all since birth. He explained that one of the reasons he had chopped off his long, moonstone ponytail was because Yuri was constantly pulling it as an adolescent, and took every opportunity possible to steal Viktor’s hair elastics. Yuuri would laugh and ask questions, a perfect listener, and Viktor continued to talk even when the subject of his brother was completely covered.

He couldn’t help himself. Yuuri was just so approachable, and he hadn’t met someone he was completely comfortable confiding in for a very long time. He told Yuuri of his last championship, the controversial thoughts going through his head at the time. He lamented to Yuuri, explaining the details of the blowup that occurred between him, his family, and his coach when Viktor announced he was taking time off, possibly to never return to skating. Viktor described why Japan was the place he wanted to explore more than anywhere, and where his favorite places in the country were.

“I love Japan’s backcountry, but oddly enough, I haven’t visited Tokyo yet.” Viktor said, a pensive hand on his chin. “That was going to be my next stop before Makkachin fell ill.”

Yuuri asked him some questions about Makkachin, and Viktor knew his eyes were lighting up and he was beginning to talk faster. He was talking so fast at times he was afraid Yuuri couldn’t keep up, but whenever those concerns arose, he would look into Yuuri’s face to see him smiling and nodding along. He was even interjecting small comments, and Viktor realized Yuuri wasn’t short of anything but brilliant.

His suspicions of Yuuri’s incredible intelligence were confirmed when he learned that Yuuri was fluent not only in English and Japanese, but also English  _ and  _ Japanese sign language. He was unbelievable at reading lips, and picked up on every comment Viktor said, even if it was a murmuring one under his breath.

Viktor tried his hardest to be as good a listener as Yuuri was, but the whole lip reading thing was becoming extremely distracting. Viktor loved learning about Yuuri, and could usually pick up the gist on what Yuuri was trying to tell him, but it got increasingly difficult as the night wore on. A larger portion than he’d like to admit of the night was spent with Viktor drinking in every inch of Yuuri’s beautiful face, nodding along like he understood every word. He could probably pick up on more if he was truly invested in interpreting every syllable, but he couldn’t help it. Yuuri was just so damn  _ adorable. _

The smile on Viktor’s face was probably loopy as he rested a cheek in his palm, watching Yuuri’s rounded lips. Communicating with a deaf person, a cute one nonetheless, was wonderful, because you could stare at their lips all you wanted and it wasn’t creepy.

Viktor barely recognized his own thoughts. He’d always been the smooth and flirtatious one, the one having the advantage due to being the one being chased after. However, he couldn’t be charmingly mysterious with Yuuri Katsuki, because for once  _ Viktor  _ was the one doing the chasing.

It was a strange feeling.

_ Viktor?  _ Viktor was jolted out of his thoughts as he watched white teeth bite the delicate, rosy skin of Yuuri’s lower lip. Viktor blinked, praying Yuuri didn’t understand what he’d just been caught doing as his eyes darted up to meet the brunette’s.

A slight flush had bloomed across Yuuri’s face. Did he understand, or was he just flustered by the fact that a celebrity was watching his lips? Viktor really hoped that the latter wasn’t the case.

_ Are…Are you following me okay?  _ Yuuri’s words formed on his lips a little slower, his hand creeping up behind his neck.  _ Y-you seem to be getting a little distracted. I know it must be hard, because even though we both speak English, our native languages are different and it may be weird because of accents…  _ Yuuri trailed off, his doe-like eyes meeting Viktor’s. It was clear he was unsure of what to do next, and Viktor was struck yet again with an enormous pang of guilt. If he had just focused on paying attention instead of being a gross pervert, the communication barrier wouldn’t be nearly as discouraging.

Then again…Viktor hated himself for it, but he wasn’t sure if he could stand staring at Yuuri’s lips without sinful thoughts for any longer. He rested his cheek in a palm thoughtfully. Maybe there was a way they could communicate that would make things easier for both of them.

Viktor grinned. “I have an idea. One second!” Yuuri blinked at him curiously as Viktor rummaged in his pocket for his phone. He unlocked it and scrolled to the app store, and waited for a few moments as his app of choice downloaded. When it was loaded and ready to go, Viktor’s grin widened as he slid his phone across the table.

A little cautiously, Yuuri plucked the phone from the table and squinted at the screen. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized what it was, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.  _ Really?  _ He mouthed to Viktor. He clicked a button.

_ YOU TYPE, I TALK! _

Viktor threw his head back and laughed.

Yuuri looked bewildered, but seemed to enjoy Viktor’s reaction. He pressed the button again, and again, and again.

_ YOU TYPE, I TALK! YOU TYPE, I TALK! YOU TYPE, I TALK! _

“Yuuri, stop!” Viktor chuckled, brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease, I’m actually really excited to see you use this. The voice on that thing is just really nasally.”

Yuuri cocked his head. Viktor watched as his finger scrolled back and forth a couple of times, watched Yuuri bite his lip to hide a smile as he pressed something. Then his fingers were typing away.

_ Hello, Viktor.  _ Viktor balked as the voice of fucking  _ Darth Vader _ greeted him.  _ Is this voice better? _

“No!” Viktor squawked, and Yuuri’s shoulders shook with laughter. “What did you  _ do,  _ Yuuri?!”

_ Or this one?  _ The new voice was high and squeaky, causing Viktor to wince.

“That one reminds me of my step-brother Yurio before he hit puberty.”

Yuuri wasn’t really paying attention. Though Viktor wished his focus was on something else, Viktor’s face perhaps, Yuuri’s fascinated expression was fixed on the phone screen. Viktor watched as Yuuri’s warm eyes widened in surprise.

Viktor frowned. “What is it?”

His fingers flew across the keyboard.  _ It says here it has celebrity mode!  _ _ You have to pay for it, but I get one free trial.  _ Prepubescent Yurio said.

Yuuri’s eyes darted between the phone and Viktor, the cute little tug at the corners of his lips growing into a mischievous smile.

Viktor gaped. “Oh, no you don’t!” He reached across the table, but Yuuri had expected this and held the phone from his reach. He was typing furiously, repressing his laughter with his other hand. His eyes finally met Viktor’s, pressing a button and smirking at Viktor with finality.

_ What about this one, Viktor? _

Viktor wailed, truly  _ wailed,  _ as a terrible impression of his own voice blared from the small speakers of his phone. Yuuri was grinning and huffing with laughter, pressing the button again and again.

_ I’m Viktor Nikiforov, and I own a poodle named Makkachin. I’m Viktor Nikiforov, and fkdljflkjlaskjf. _

It trailed into nonsense as Viktor wallowed in mortification, reaching over the table and swiping at the phone with both hands.

The tables adjacent to theirs were looking at them as if they had just grown two additional heads, but Viktor didn’t care. Despite his embarrassment, he was interacting with a grinning Yuuri whose eyes were shining with mirth, mouth open in a way that made him look like he really wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

The last thought was enough to make Viktor pause curiously. Deaf people could talk and laugh just like everybody else, and many of them even talked more than they signed. Viktor completely understood if talking made Yuuri uncomfortable, but being deaf shouldn’t keep him from enjoying the simple pleasure of laughing. Was it his disability, or something else? What was keeping Yuuri from using his voice?

Viktor slowly lowered himself back into his seat, laying his phone on the table between them. “Yuuri?” He pressed gently, his head falling to the side slightly. “Why won’t you laugh?”

Yuuri sobered immediately, all traces of joy draining from his face. The color in his cheeks flushed away, the happy pink replaced with a haunted, ivory white.

Viktor gasped. “Oh, God, did I cross a line?! Yuuri, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything, please don’t think that—“

Yuuri halted his rambling by exposing a palm, gesturing for him to stop talking.  _ It’s okay, Viktor. You didn’t cross any lines, I get asked that sometimes.  _ The color in his face returned in full force but for entirely different reasons, the shade a deep red. Viktor felt terrible. He hadn’t meant to make Yuuri embarrassed, why did he ruin  _ everything? _

_ I’m just…  _ Yuuri began, letting a breath loose.  _ I’ve never heard my own voice. I have no idea what it sounds like other than what my family tells me. Talking makes me feel really self-conscious unless it’s around my family or close friends, and I feel the same way about laughing. Sorry. _

“Please don’t apologize.” Viktor said softly. “It’s my fault for prying. I wasn’t thinking, and I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I hope that you can eventually become comfortable enough with me so I can hear your laugh, which I’m sure is a beautiful sound.” Oh God, was that too forward? He would give anything to know what was going on in Yuuri’s head.

The younger man looked up at him through his eyelashes, the red in his cheeks becoming bashful. “I hope so, too.” He typed, flashing a cheeky little grin that stole Viktor’s breath away.

Viktor covered his eyes with his hands. “Oi, Yuuri, that impression of my voice is just awful. Who even comes up with these things?”

“You were the one who downloaded the app.” The voice that came out was a different one, a modest voice that sounded something like the standard Siri on Viktor's Iphone. Viktor let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s much better.”

Their food came out a few minutes later, the night progressing much more positivity now that Viktor had screwed up enough times that there was no possibility of him doing anything worse. It got to the point where it felt like normal conversation, just two men in a restaurant getting to know one another, and it was more than Viktor had ever hoped for. He was learning about Yuuri, laughing with Yuuri, as if they had conversed like this a million times!

They stayed in engaging communication until the people at adjacent tables were filtering out of the restaurant, until the music tapered down to the sound of pots and pans being washed in the kitchens. All incidents of Viktor’s mistakes were completely forgotten, disappearing like the katsudon in Yuuri’s bowl with each time Yuuri made Viktor laugh. Viktor didn’t want the night to end, dear God, he  _ really  _ didn’t want the night to end, and his mind scrambled for ways to distract Yuuri from the frustrated glances of the restaurant staff nearby.

Yuuri nodded along with Viktor’s story, but Viktor watched with increasing anxiety as Yuuri’s eyes flitted around, squirming in his seat a little uncomfortably.  _ No!  _ Viktor’s internal 15-year old girl shrieked.  _ Keep your eyes on me! We still have three minutes until the restaurant closes! _

_ Viktor,  _ Yuuri interjected between Viktor’s rambling about Makkachin’s puppy years,  _ The restaurant is trying to close. We should probably get going. _

“But this is so nice!” Viktor whined. “I don’t want to go home just yet!”

Yuuri smiled.  _ We don’t have to go home, but we can’t stay here. _

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were walking merrily down the city sidewalk, Viktor trying and failing in his attempts to keep the ice cream in his hands off his gloves.

_ You know it's freezing out here, right?  _ Yuuri mouthed, snorting. He was holding some sort of warm pastry that resembled a cinnamon roll, the hot steam of it visible in the chill night air.  _ You could have just gotten one of these, which is less cold and drippy. _

“I’m a Russian! I was born for the cold!” Viktor declared, licking his ice cream defiantly. The two of them were walking Yuuri home when Viktor had spotted the desserts stand, not having it in him to pass up such a sweet opportunity to cap the incredible night. Yuuri had pleaded that he didn’t want anything, but Viktor refused and selected the most delicious looking pastry the cart offered.

_ How cold does it get in Russia?  _ Yuuri inquired, tearing off a piece of his dessert and popping it into his mouth.

“Hmm.” Viktor mused. In the winter, it’s usually around negative fifteen degrees Celsius, depending on where you are.”

Yuuri wrinkled his nose.  _ That’s awful. _

“What? You don’t like the cold?” Viktor grinned mischievously and peeled off a glove. Yuuri furrowed his brow as Viktor wiggled his fingers in his face, and then promptly snaked his fingers under Yuuri’s scarf.  Yuuri shrieked, bunching his neck to his ears as he scrunched his face. Viktor laughed at the endearing sight.

_ Viktor!  _ Yuuri was frowning, but his eyes were full of mirth.  _ What was that for?! _

“Nothing.” Viktor chuckled. Yuuri stuck his tongue out at him, and Viktor brought his ice cream cone to Yuuri’s lips and dragged it down before Yuuri could recoil.

Yuuri scowled deeply at him, but the frown on his face softened when he took in the flavor. He smacked his lips lightly, eyed the cone, and then took it from Viktor’s hold. Viktor threw his head back and  _ laughed. _

“Who’s the crazy one now?” Viktor teased, plucking a piece off of Yuuri’s pastry. Just to watch Yuuri’s nose scrunch up adorably once more, Viktor dipped the flaky piece into the gooey chocolate ice cream Yuuri was currently holding.  Viktor inwardly beamed smugly when the exact reaction he’d been hoping to pull from Yuuri twisted into his face.

_ You.  _ Yuuri mouthed, lips recoiled.  _ Still you. _

The sign of the Katsuki family business approached way too quickly. Viktor considered slowing his steps to further lengthen the glorious night, but he knew Yuuri was cold and probably very tired. When the only space between the pair and the bathhouse inn was a few steps, Viktor and Yuuri instinctively paused.

Yuuri tried to hand Viktor his ice-cream back, but Viktor shook his head and smiled. “Keep it.”  

Yuuri inspected the cone warily, Viktor chuckling as he reluctantly tucked his arm back into his chest.  _ I had a lot of fun tonight, Viktor.  _ Viktor wasn’t sure if Yuuri was blushing from the chill in the air, or from the intensity of Viktor’s gaze.

Viktor barely resisted the urge to reach out and brush a strand of raven hair back from Yuuri’s forehead. Affection bloomed in his chest as Yuuri smiled up at him shyly, Viktor watching the soft puffs of air that escaped his rounded lips.

After exchanging numbers, Viktor bid him farewell. “Text me Yuuri, won’t you?” He tried to make the phrase sound casual as he threw it over his shoulder, but the rawness of the situation and his butterfly-filled stomach betrayed him, his voice noticeably quivering.

He did nothing but watch as Yuuri bit back a smile and nodded, his heart’s steady beating speeding to an erratic pace as the younger man’s figure retreated into the inn.

Viktor continued to watch the closed door until his heart quit pounding, the falling snow tickling his nose and eyelashes. He turned away with a shiver, his chest warm despite the swirling, sparkling flurries of white that danced through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please express your thoughts on this chapter to me, it was one that I was very self-conscious about posting. The holidays have made it quite difficult to find time to review and revise, but I hope this chapter was one you all enjoyed! Have a wonderful new year, everyone!!
> 
> My tumblr: @yuuriskates


	5. Chapter 5

__  
Katsuki Yuuri  


 

The past week had undoubtedly been the best week of Yuuri’s entire life.

Ever since his first date with Viktor back at the restaurant (was it a date?) The two had been communicating nonstop. Whether it was a good morning emoji or tagging Yuuri in cute pictures of puppies on instagram, Yuuri was always elated to hear from the silver-haired skater. Though Yuuri considered himself rather dull and inexperienced in the social media department, Viktor’s constant texting after their initial exchangement of numbers had given Yuuri boosts of courage to poke harmless fun at Viktor when they saw one another face-to-face.

When they ‘happened to be’ at the Ice Castle at the same time, Yuuri would distract Viktor from teaching skating lessons by giving him cheeky little grins from the sidelines. Sometimes Yuuri would divert Viktor’s attention by pretending to take pictures, and would snort when Viktor got caught posing for them by his seven-year-old students.

On the days that Yuuri was feeling  _ really _ cheeky, Viktor would make sure to get his revenge on Yuuri’s mischief. Sometimes he chased Yuuri across the ice once the kids were gone, or drank all of Yuuri’s water. The latter of his two ‘punishments’ was not exactly an affective one, considering Viktor always refilled his bottle and then offered to take him out for coffee afterwards.

The most formidable payback Viktor had bestowed on Yuuri was the time he’d decided to snatch both Yuuri’s skates and shoes and run away with them. Yuuri had been forced to hobble around the skating complex in nothing but his socks, struggling to avoid cold puddles from the rink as Viktor cavorted ahead with fully protective shoes.

Well...he  _ had _ hidden snow from outside in each of Viktor’s skates that day, so he  _ supposed _ he sort of deserved it.

Yuuri leaned back into his bed and recalled his interactions with Viktor fondly, each new archived memory improving his already wonderful mood. It took a person of incredible caliber to pull Yuuri out of his tight shell, and Viktor had done so in less than a week. Yuuri was pulling  _ pranks _ , for God’s sake, something he hadn’t had the courage to do since him and Phichit roomed together back in Detroit. Yuuri couldn’t recall a time he felt so comfortable with a person, so at ease. Though of course with his anxiety...well, a person like Yuuri was never quite  _ completely _ at ease for long.

It was only a matter of seconds before Yuuri’s heart sped up again, his old, familiar friend placing cold fingers on the back of his neck. There was one thing that had been plaguing his thoughts, something that was keeping him from completely losing himself in the joy of being around fun, playful Viktor Nikiforov.

The new subject of his anxiety was the predicament of Yuuri and his new Russian companion’s unavoidable language barrier. The first date (was it a date?!) went well enough, but that was mostly due to the silly app Viktor had insisted Yuuri use, along with the fact that Yuuri was making sure he was mouthing his phrases extra carefully. However, as he progressively spent more time with Viktor, Yuuri knew he was beginning to fall into old habits.

Viktor was sweet and tried his hardest to hide it, but Yuuri had begun to notice brief glimpses of confusion in the gaze Viktor had trained on his lips when Yuuri mouthed sentences. Yuuri would then slow down his words uncertainly, and though Viktor would snap out of it and smile encouragingly, it did nothing to solve the problem.

It was unavoidable. Yuuri would  _ have _ to eventually open his mouth and actually talk to Viktor. It wasn’t fair to make the Russian man do this, to interpret words in a language that wasn’t his primary, and with a dialect on Yuuri’s tongue that probably looked even more foreign. It was honestly a miracle at this point that they were able to hold a conversation, but…

Yuuri was struck dumb, his thoughts trailing off as he realized that  _ no,  _ Viktor and him  _ hadn’t  _ had a true conversation past that first date. They had certainly tried, but most of their relationship had developed through physical interaction. The pranks, the funny faces Viktor made at him from across the ice, the warm cinnamon rolls that Viktor had snuck into his locker when Yuuri was on the rink by himself. They had texted back and forth of course, but texting couldn’t be their only form of verbal communication forever.

The dread that sunk into his gut weighed no less than the anchor of a ship as Yuuri realized what had to come next.

Yuuri’s friends were few. However, his relationships with the friends he had were built on his eventual courage to talk to them after weeks, sometimes even months, of knowing them. He had known Viktor for a solid seven days!

A small growl of frustration worked its way up Yuuri’s throat, and he raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. He was planning on going to Viktor’s tonight to watch movies, which meant he only had a few hours to figure out how the hell he was going to do this.

Yuuri threw his hands down into the mattress with a huff, and looked up to catch a glimpse of his sister Mari walking down the hall towards his room. Yuuri hated being startled, and for that reason always kept the door open, and was able to see Mari far before she reached the threshold of his room. He braced himself for his older sister, sitting up on his bed.

_ You’ve been in here all day.  _ Mari signed, leaning against the door-frame.  _ Everything alright? _

_ Yeah, I’m fine.  _ Yuuri signed back, sighing dejectedly.  _ It’s just...Viktor. _

_ I figured that’s what it was. _ A small smile tugged at the corners of his sister’s lips.  _ Want to talk about it? _

Yuuri was about to thank her for the offer and excuse himself to go mope somewhere else, when he paused suddenly.

“Yes.” He used his voice out loud for the first time in days, determination making him straighten. “Yes, Mari, that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Mari raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him.

“Mari, the problem that’s been bothering me is the fact that Viktor and I are having trouble communicating. He’s fun and lovable and very patient with me, but I can’t go on knowing how much it's straining Viktor just to figure out what I’m trying to tell him. I want to talk to him, but, well…” He sighed, dropping his head pitifully. “You know how I am.”

Yuuri felt his sister’s weight on the other end of the bed, and trained his gaze on her face to await her response. “Yuuri,” she said, picking at a fray on his comforter, “I’m not going to call you ridiculous because I understand insecurities, but your voice is something you’ve worked so hard on.” She was frowning now, the furrow of her brow casting shadows across her face. “I know that it's fairly uncommon for the deaf at birth to speak with one-hundred percent accuracy and I can see why you’re uncertain, but you’ve trained outside of school for this for years. You’ve been with dozens of tutors, and they’ve all told you the same thing, your voice is the last thing you need to worry about as long as you practice. I’ve told you a million times but I’ll tell you again, I swear that your voice is actually something pleasant to listen to.” She gave him an uncommon smile, which helped Yuuri’s anxiousness ebb away slightly. “But if you need someone to practice talking to, I’m here for you.”

Yuuri sighed, his shoulders slumping, forever grateful for his supportive sister. “That would be nice.”

“Alright.” Mari crossed her legs, and Yuuri watched warily as a mischievous glint lit up her eyes. “Say...Victor Nikiforov, you are so beautiful.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Viktor Nikiforov, you are so beautiful.”

“Viktor, you are the light of my life and my inspiration, the jailer of my heart.”

“Viktor, you are the light of my life and my inspiration, the jailer of my heart.” Yuuri made sure to repeat the words dully, but he was trying hard not to smile.

“Viktor, my walls are covered in your face and I would like nothing more than to ravish your entire--”

“Mari! That’s enough!” Yuuri squawked, and his hands flew out to cover his sister’s mouth. The vibrations of her loud laugh tickled his fingers, causing him to burst into his own laughter as well. He hadn’t allowed himself to talk and laugh so freely in a while, and it filled him with both energy and relief.

“You were born ready for this, Katsuki.” Mari gripped Yuuri’s wrists teasingly and put on a serious expression, causing another fluttery laugh to rise from Yuuri’s chest. “Go get em, Tiger.” Mari ruffled his hair and left with a wink, leaving Yuuri alone in his room feeling much lighter than he’d felt before. He felt his phone vibrate against his thigh, and he pulled it out of his pocket, humming.

He felt a blush blossom across his cheeks when he read that the text was from Viktor.

**_Ready for moooooovieeeees?!?! (=^.^=)_ ** His text was followed with a cat emoticon, along with a long string of smiley faces and popcorn emojis.

Yuuri giggled.  _ I don’t come over for another two hours!  _ He typed back.

**_Just come over early! You still need to meet Makkachin!!!_ **

Makkachin, Viktor’s beloved pet, the reason Yuuri had adopted an apricot poodle of his own years ago that looked strikingly similar to his idol’s. Suddenly flustered, he responded,  _ I’ve seen pictures. _

The reply was instant.  **_That’s not the same thing as seventy-five pounds of pure fluff in your face!_ ** A moment later, a picture came through. Yuuri went scarlet as he realized it was a selfie, a selfie Viktor had probably taken just for Yuuri. The picture was of Viktor sprawled across his couch with a heart shaped smile, the pink tongue of his pet licking his cheek. It was a devastatingly cute picture, and Yuuri had to resist the strong, creepy urge of saving it to his phone.

Yuuri laughed as the words  **_We’re waaaaaiitiiiiiiiing!!!! :P_ ** popped up below the picture a moment later.

_ Hmmm. I’ve seen cuter ones.  _ Yuuri teased.

**_WHAT???_ **

**_WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?!???!!!_ **

Viktor’s texts of outrage were followed by a series of photos of his dog. Some of them included Viktor, but most of them were just adorable pictures of Makkachin sleeping or staring up at the camera with an eager look in his eyes. Viktor would splutter out random letters and angry emojis between pictures, calling Yuuri a heartless poodle-hater, much to Yuuri’s amusement. He was going to reply with something along the lines of  _ alright, Makkachin is the cutest poodle I’ve ever seen,  _ when he got a much better idea.

Yuuri bit back a smile and texted the words before he lost courage.

_ I was talking about skaters. _

The three dots which indicated Viktor’s reply was on its way instantly disappeared. Seconds passed.

A minute.

The cold hands of Yuuri’s anxiety began to trace faint, daunting circles on his spine. Had he been too offensive? Surely Viktor knew he hadn’t really meant it. They had been teasing one another all week, surely a playful little taunt wasn’t enough to make Viktor...Viktor…

His thoughts trailed off as a picture popped up on his phone screen. Makkachin was nowhere to be found.

No, this photo starred only the poodle’s owner. An impish smirk danced on Viktor’s mouth, his teeth barely biting the delicate skin of his plush bottom lip. His hand was tossed up in a playful peace sign but his eyes contrasted the gesture, holding a look that reminded Yuuri of ivory pillows and silk sheets.

**_I suppose I’ll just have to change your mind, then._ ** The text read. 

Yuuri threw his phone down and covered his scarlet face in his hands with a squeak. He took a few moments to compose himself, knowing that the image of VIktor blaring on his phone screen held ten times more appeal than the dozens of posters on his wall. His phone dinged a moment later, and Yuuri timidly picked it back up, peeking at his screen with one eye open.

**_Oh! I forgot to mention, I’m cooking dinner tonight. Does pizza sound okay?_ **

Yuuri balked, his shock causing a little breathless laugh to escape from his throat.

_ Vkusno.  _ Yuuri replied, a hand pressed to his cheek as he grinned. Only Viktor would send a picture of himself like that, and then talk about food a moment later.

**_Wonderful!!! ^.^_ **

Another ding.

**_Oh, and Yuuri, just to clarify: When you said ‘Vkusno,’ were you talking about the pizza or the picture I sent? ;)_ **

For the first time in weeks, Yuuri threw back his head and let out a full, unsuppressed laugh, the kind that was loud and happy and made your stomach heave. He was embarrassed at how red faced Viktor could make him with a couple of silly text messages, but hell if Viktor needed to know that. So instead of indulging Viktor in a verbal reply, Yuuri sent him pictures of delicious looking pizzas from Google images with heart-eyed emojis.

**_;) ;) ;,) ??????_ **

**_You’ve wounded me_ **

Yuuri snorted. Was this man even real? Smirking, Yuuri typed out his response.

_ Sorry. I may not be straight but my priorities sure are.  _ Yuuri leaned back, wondering what Viktor’s cheeky response was going to be to  _ that. _

Three seconds passed.

Five.

Yuuri’s eyes flew open, an enormous breath whooshing into his lungs as his hands flew into his hair. Holy shit. Had he actually  _ sent that  _ just now?!

Viktor didn’t reply for an entire minute, which became two minutes, and by that time Yuuri was fully prepared to die. He’d leave his room to Mari, his skates to Phichit, his posters of Viktor to Yuuko--

**_Yuurai I’m sorrasy it tookasd me a coduple minusdfstes to rspond but I’mm lifererally losingg my shit righft now_ **

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief, and then curled his knees to his chest as an elated smile broke across his face. The idea of making Viktor laugh so hard that he could barely respond coherently made him swell with pride and giddiness. As if Viktor finding Yuuri funny wasn’t enough to make Yuuri go to his grave still smiling, Viktor began to send blurry pictures of himself with his beautiful, usually serene face alight with laughter.

Even though you could barely see Viktor in the pictures due to the shaky camera, the large, heart shaped smile and eyes that were squeezed shut in mirth were unmistakable. Viktor’s smile was contagious, and looking at the picture made Yuuri feel a pang in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had been deaf his whole life and was more than okay with his disability, knowing it didn’t make him weak or any less of a person than anyone else, but this longing feeling was one that he got every once in awhile. It was the feeling he got when he wished he could hear what something sounded like.

Knowing Viktor’s personality, his laugh was probably a wonderful sound, one that made even the saddest of those around him grin. It was probably loud and boisterous, ringing and childlike, full of life and love. Yuuri didn’t let his disappointment keep him somber long, however, because he knew that in that moment he was probably the luckiest man alive. He wondered how many people Viktor’s fangirls and fanboys would be willing to kill to get their hands on Yuuri’s phone to see Viktor’s silly selfies, taken exclusively for Yuuri.

The thought made him feel a little smug, but it was a feeling that was quickly diminished when he realized that  _ he _ was no better than those crazy fangirls and fanboys, that he himself had dozens of posters of the Russian skater all over his wall. If Viktor hadn’t randomly waltzed into his life a week ago, he would still be a part of that list who would commit murder for just a small glimpse of his idol’s expression when he laughed, a glimpse into Viktor’s personal life.

Good God, he was pathetic.

Suddenly shy, Yuuri pulled his fluffy comforter over his head and groaned. If he couldn’t even look at a simple picture of Viktor without melting into a blushing puddle, how the hell was he supposed to work up the courage to  _ talk  _ to him? Yuuri had been trying very hard to see Viktor as a normal person and not his idol, and for the most part, it had worked. However, there were times where his heart couldn’t help but leap in front of his mind, couldn’t help but see a star worthy of dedication and praise rather than a normal human being. If it took Viktor barely a simple photo to turn Yuuri back to his childish ways of idolizing him, how could their friendship develop healthily?

Yuuri still thought Viktor was gifted with unfathomable talent and was beginning to think that he had a heart as gold as his medals, but he didn’t want to simply be Viktor’s fan anymore. Yuuri wasn’t sure what exactly Viktor was seeking by hanging around a loser like him, but he had made it clear that his reason was not to be praised and gawked at from some high pedestal.

For that reason, Yuuri did not dress up when he was preparing to go to Viktor’s an hour later. He brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair, but he did not change out of his comfortable sweatpants and  _ The King and the Skater  _ graphic tee that Phichit had gifted him. He didn’t even put in his contacts and stylish, black framed glasses; instead he wore his normal ones, perfectly blue, bland, prescription-lenses and all. Viktor and him were going to be eating pizza and watching movies, so he was going to dress like they were, damnit.

Not only that, but he was going to talk. He was going to look Viktor in the eyes and _ talk  _ to him, hold a completely normal conversation, just like he would chatter with his family or close friends.

With that thought in mind, he slipped into his shoes and bulky coat, walking into the brisk air determinedly.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s mighty plan was promptly shoved up his ass the moment Viktor Nikiforov answered the door.

“Yuuri!” Viktor greeted delightedly, stepping aside to let Yuuri in. “You didn’t answer my last text, I was afraid you weren’t coming.” He winked, and helped Yuuri out of his coat.

_ Sorry. I fell asleep.  _ Yuuri mouthed, and momentarily lowered his head in shame. A coward  _ and  _ a liar.

Viktor huffed. “Am I really that much of a bore? I’m only twenty-seven, and it appears I’m already too antiquated for you.”

Yuuri smiled, but couldn’t look into Viktor’s eyes.  _ Coward. You filthy, unworthy coward.  _ The cold hands were back, but this time, they didn’t brush his neck and flit away. They stayed, clasped firmly around Yuuri’s throat, a constant reminder of the one thing he was too much of a craven to do.

“...so fantastic! I can’t wait to show you all of my favorite parts!” Yuuri’s eyes shot up when he realized Viktor was talking to him, and instantly felt guilty for not paying attention.

_ I’m sorry.  _ Yuuri mouthed, shaking his head slightly. He was going to talk this time.  _ Could you say that again?  _ Yuuri did not, in fact, talk, and the smile on his face wavered.

_ Idiot.  _ His mind spat.  _ Cowardly idiot. _

Viktor smiled. “I was just saying how I much I love your T-shirt. You’re in luck tonight, because that’s the movie I’d planned we’d watch, if you’d like! I have other options of course, too though.” Viktor clasped his hands together and awaited Yuuri’s response eagerly. His excitability reminded Yuuri of a human golden retriever, one with sparkling blue eyes and silky gray fur. Yuuri shook his head to clear the image.

_ No!  _ Yuuri mouthed quickly, holding up his hands.  _ Of course we can watch it, I love that movie! Obviously.  _ He toyed with the fabric of his shirt, and bit his lip in frustration when he automatically held back a laugh.

Viktor was looking down at him curiously, which only made Yuuri’s guilt worsen. Either Viktor didn’t understand what Yuuri had tried to communicate or he was catching on to Yuuri’s mood, both of which were Yuuri’s fault. He had never felt more unworthy in his entire life.

The pensive expression on Viktor’s face was fleeting. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuuri! He didn’t run to the door right away because I’d just given him his dinner before you walked in, but he’ll come when I call. Makkachin!”

Yuuri didn’t hear the poodle coming, and was swiftly knocked to the floor on his side by a large mass of wagging tail and apricot fur.

Yuuri was a little startled by the dog’s sudden entrance, but the surprise melted into something like glee as the poodle began licking Yuuri’s face. Viktor was right, pictures truly were nothing compared to the actual seventy-five pound of fluff ball in your face.

Yuuri tangled his fingers in Makkachin’s fur and snuggled close, grinning. The dog reminded him so much of his beloved Vicchan, Vicchan being the last dog he ever interacted with like this. Makkachin was so loving and enthusiastic, a perfect companion to his equally loving and enthusiastic owner.

Yuuri vaguely registered Viktor kneeling down next to Yuuri’s head, but Yuuri was too lost in bliss to respond, the type of bliss only a warm, loving pet could provide. Yuuri was so happy and nostalgic that he didn’t hold it back this time.

As Makkachin snuggled his head into the crook of Yuuri’s neck and pawed at his shirt, Yuuri did it.

He  _ laughed. _

It wasn’t a full fledged laugh, but it was a bubbly, delighted one that caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle.  _ I love your dog!  _ Yuuri mouthed up to Viktor, his head falling back against the floor as Makkachin ambushed his face. Yuuri giggled.

Viktor was staring down at him with a look of utter shock written across his face, those sapphire eyes alert and bright. He blinked once, twice, and then breathed, “You’re exquisite.”

Yuuri blushed, his stroking movements on Makkachin’s fur faltering, but it didn’t stop the flood of pride that swelled into his chest. He had done it, he had laughed in front of Viktor! Even though he hadn’t talked it was definitely a stepping stone, an incredible stepping stone, and enough to make Yuuri grin up at Viktor. Despite his embarrassment, the awe-struck look on Viktor’s face made Yuuri feel as if his laugh was worth it, as if he were enough. It was a new, wonderful feeling, to be enough.

The icy hands clamped around Yuuri’s throat melted under Viktor's fond, ecstatic gaze, a laugh of his own shaping his mouth into a beautiful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats Vitya, you got through a chapter without messing up!! :D *claps*
> 
> The texting between the two was really fun to write, I enjoyed exploring the sillier aspects of Viktor's personality. I hope you all enjoyed, more date fun and fluff next chapter!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! A couple notes before we begin:
> 
> I'm SO sorry for the wait. School has been absolutely chaotic for me, and being sick on top of it has certainly not helped. I've been very anxious to post this chapter and am quite excited for you all to read! It is extra long to make up for the irregular update :) 
> 
> WARNING: I don't know if you all noticed, but the rating of this story has changed from Teen and up audiences to Mature. This chapter is pretty fluffy, but there are certainly some sexual references. It's probably not enough to be considered Mature yet, but I changed the rating early just to be safe.
> 
> If in any instance during this chapter you read something that makes you uncomfortable, I would be more than happy to give you a chapter synopsis so you can skip what you would like to but still enjoy the story. My tumblr is @yuuriskates, never hesitate to drop something in my inbox!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

_Katsuki Yuuri_

Yuuri was on cloud nine. 

Once he had allowed himself to laugh in front of Viktor, the barrier of self-consciousness all but melted away. Viktor was beyond elated that Yuuri was freely laughing, and though he was attempting to do so discreetly, Yuuri knew that Viktor was making an effort to be extra silly. Lamenting his disappointment in the fact that Makkachin was the one to make Yuuri laugh first, Viktor threw an arm over his eyes dramatically and feigned sobs. Between the unnecessary wails and theatrical grimaces, Yuuri no longer had any idea what Viktor was whining, but the sight was awfully entertaining. Unfortunately, his performance was eventually cut short by the sound of the oven going off.

Yuuri hid a snort behind his hand at the sight of such a graceful, professional ice skater struggling with oven mitts. They were pink poodle oven mitts that were obnoxiously large, far too large to use efficiently, and Viktor’s actions were making it very clear he’d never used them before.

He couldn’t believe he had posters all over his wall of this man.

Despite how hilarious the sight of Viktor Nikiforov trying to shove his ridiculously large poodle mitts into the oven was, Yuuri couldn’t help but pity him. With his fast-paced career, had Viktor ever properly learned how to do mundane things, like cook? Yuuri was tempted with the idea of offering words of assistance to the struggling Russian, but didn’t feel like getting up from where he was seated on the kitchen counter. His eyes snagged on a bowl of fruit, so instead of moving from his comfortable position, Yuuri threw a grape at Viktor’s head to get his attention.

Viktor, notefuly startled, jumped up and hit his head on the cabinet above the oven. “Ow!” Yuuri watched him squawk, and laughed as he whirled around incredulously.

Yuuri dissolved into giggles, which heightened into laughter as Viktor rubbed the sore spot on his head with his pink oven mitts. He jutted his lip out as Yuuri laughed, but it was obvious he was very much enjoying the attention.

“ _Yuu_ ri, you cruel human, how can you laugh at me? That cabinet is made of solid wood! I still don’t know what in the world…” His roaming eyes paused on the purple grape near his feet. He picked up the offending fruit, narrowing his eyes at Yuuri.

“ _Yuu_ ri…” Viktor began, a playful scowl tugging his features down. “What is this?” A mellow Viktor would never react with such drama and bravado. To think that Yuuri had caused his excellent mood, to think that Viktor _wanted_ his attention, made his shoulders straighten with pride. He was beyond flattered, but didn’t let his pleased mood keep him from teasing.

Yuuri shrugged, popping another grape into his mouth.

 _I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about._ Yuuri pointed to the oven _. Don’t you have food to cook?_ He smirked, swinging his legs.

Viktor huffed. “You win this time, but the night is young, solnyshko." 

Yuuri’s head tilted to the side as he followed Viktor’s phrase. He frowned, absently mouthing the strange word, trying to find a grasp on the syllables. _Sol...S-sol…_ His eyebrows scrunched.

“Ah!” Viktor bounced suddenly, pressing his mitt-cladded hands to his cheeks as his mouth broke into a heart shaped smile. “Yuuri, you’re going to kill me, that was so cute! I would apologize for confusing you, but I don’t feel sorry at all. You should have seen the adorable little way your head tilted just now.”

Yuuri threw another grape at Viktor, but he batted it away. He stepped towards Yuuri with a fond smile, capturing his face between his two poodle mitts, and Yuuri leaned into the warmth that had seeped into them from the oven. _“Solnyshko.”_ Viktor said carefully, making sure Yuuri was following his lips. “Noun. A Russian term of endearment. My little sun.” Viktor squished up Yuuri’s cheeks, laughing as they flushed noticeably pinker.

Yuuri huffed. _Take those ridiculous mitts off and find some other ones._

“Mm, I don’t think so. I’m currently enjoying the view.”

Yuuri went scarlet. _Your pizza is going to burn._

“That’s alright. I’ve got another.”

Huffing and rolling his eyes, Yuuri wiggled his head out of Viktor’s grasp and hopped off the counter. He searched the cupboards and drawers for oven mitts that weren’t completely useless, and let out a small triumphant sound when he found what he was looking for.

Yuuri shot Viktor a look over his shoulder as he slipped on the smaller, much more practical pair of mitts. Even though he knew the answer, Yuuri inquired, _Why didn’t you just use these ones in the first place?_

“Because those ones are boring.” Viktor said, wrinkling his nose at Yuuri’s hands. “Besides, my little brother got these ones for me as a gag gift, and was mortified when I pulled them out and used them in front of our friends at his birthday celebration. They carry fond memories.”

Yuuri chuckled as he imagined Yuri Plisetsky, the Ice Tiger of Russia, scolding his twenty-seven year old brother cladded in bright pink poodle oven mitts. Yuri Plisetsky had always been known for his fiery, intense personality, and it was hard to imagine that him and Viktor were part of the same family. Yuuri turned around briefly to pull the pizza out of the oven, inhaling the delicious--though slightly burnt--scent.

As he worked, he vaguely registered the vibrations of Viktor’s padding feet until they halted next to his. The vibrations were very comforting, but his tranquil mood was short lived. As Viktor reached up to grab some plates from a cabinet, Yuuri almost dropped the pizza at the sudden sight of Viktor’s toned middle in his peripheral vision.

Yuuri gulped as Viktor’s midriff grazed the top of his ear. His skin was smooth and milky white, a fine trail of delicate silver hairs brushing and plunging down the waistband of his sweatpants.Yuuri barely refrained from tripping backwards over his own two feet as he scrambled to get away from the alluring sight, to get the pizza onto the counter.

_Pizza, pizza. You’re thinking about pizza, not Viktor’s abs, or the sharp V of his hipbones. No, Viktor’s not even cute, this pizza looks delicious--_

Yuuri felt a hand tilt his chin upwards, and he let out a squeak of surprise as Viktor’s sapphire eyes bore into his. _Pizza, pizza, pizza--_

“Sorry.” Viktor smiled sheepishly, but his hand didn’t fall from Yuuri’s chin. “I couldn’t think of how else to get your attention.” His eyes were glittering, suggesting Viktor knew _exactly_ what his presence did to Yuuri.

Yuuri swallowed. _T-that’s okay._ He signed anxiously, and then realized who exactly he was standing in front of. Viktor had made him so flustered simply by standing next to him that Yuuri had completely swapped languages.

Curse Viktor Nikiforov and his stupid, flawless stomach.

 _I...I...s-sorry!_ Yuuri mouthed frantically, banging his hands on the counter as he scrambled to put them behind his back. He winced slightly as his fingers tingled with pain, and his cheeks grew even hotter as he realized that Viktor was watching his every move with a warm expression on his face. _I, erm, have been signing quite a bit today and forgot that--_

Viktor smiled. “Don’t apologize.” He reached behind Yuuri and gently pulled his hands from where they were tucked at the small of his back. “I know it must be easy to forget, I’m a horribly forgetful person myself.” He leaned towards Yuuri, both of Yuuri’s flushed hands clasped in Viktor’s larger ones. He felt Viktor’s hot breath on his brow when he cooed, “If I’m going to be honest with you, I’m glad your mind slipped for a moment. When you sign, Yuuri, it’s quite beautiful to watch.”

Yuuri blinked up owlishly at him. _R-really?_ He stuttered.

“Mm.” His smile was sincere, and warmed Yuuri’s chest. After tenderly stroking the back of Yuuri’s knuckles with his thumb, Viktor released his hands and asked, “Will you sign something for me?”

Yuuri’s tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. He shifted on his feet, squirming. _Like...like what?_

“Anything.” Viktor said happily, and stepped back to give Yuuri’s hands room to move.

Yuuri thought for a moment. Biting his lip, Yuuri raised his hands a little awkwardly.

 _I’ve always looked up to you._ He signed, his movements faltering as he pondered what to sign next. Yuuri knew Viktor couldn’t understand, so he signed unabashedly, _You’re one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, inside and out, and even though our first encounter went poorly, I’m so glad you came into my life._

He was having a very difficult time meeting Viktor’s intense gaze, but he gained confidence with each smooth movement his hands made. This was familiar, safe territory. He finally forced his eyes to meet Viktor’s and he smiled, earnest and warm. Once the initial discomfort had faded, Yuuri realized he had never felt so comfortable and relaxed signing in front of someone before. At ease, he began to gesture the words he knew he would never be able to let Viktor truly know. It felt sort of nice doing this, releasing a secret so freely into the air that only Yuuri could ever understand.

 _I love the expression on your face as you watch my hands, Viktor._ Yuuri was sure he imagined the small intake of breath between Viktor’s lips as Yuuri signed the letters of his name, so he continued. _I know it's only been a week, but I feel close to you. I hope everyone sees you and loves you for who you are, not the skater, but for the compassionate heart the skater possesses._ Feeling bold, Yuuri reached out and touched Viktor’s chest at the word _heart._ Viktor was watching him with rapt attention, his sapphire eyes wide and awe-stuck, and was that...was that a _blush_ on the taller man’s face?

 _You’ll never know._ Yuuri signed, giggling. _I just poured out my feelings to you, and you’ll never know._

Noting his giggles, Viktor raised an eyebrow despite his slightly flustered expression. “You’re awfully giggly. Did you just spend the past couple of minutes roasting me?” Viktor teased.

 _Quite the contrary._ Yuuri admitted, and then smirked. _Too bad you’ll never know for certain, though._

It was Viktor’s turn to smirk, and the devilish smile that his little smirk turned into once he raised his hands between them was enough to make Yuuri’s heart pound.

 _Are you sure?_ His movements were rough and choppy, but enough to get the question across.

Yuuri _choked._

Viktor threw back his head and laughed gleefully. “Oh, my God, Yuuri stop panicking! Take your hands out of your hair!” As he laughed, Viktor reached up and pried Yuuri’s hands from his raven head. Yuuri’s eyes were bulging, a ferocious blush blooming across his face. He was close to losing his mind at this point, if Viktor had understood, if Viktor knew what he’d signed to him, he would die. He would crawl under a rock and _die_.

 _H-how much did you understand?!_ Yuuri mouthed, his knee bouncing frantically.

Viktor smiled. “Honestly, Yuuri, just my name. I looked up ‘are you sure’ on the internet because I knew the perfect situation like this was going to eventually arise. I’m sorry, I just had to tease you. Revenge for the cheeky little smiles you give me in the middle of ice lessons.” Viktor smirked, and Yuuri balked.

_You...you set me up?!_

“Kind of. Sort of. Yes.” He lowered his head a little guiltily, but then Yuuri watched as the man sinfully set his gaze on Yuuri’s lips through his silver eyelashes. His eyes were full of seductive mischief.

“However, _Yuu_ ri…” Yuuri sucked in a breath as Viktor’s thumb caressed his lower lip. “You certainly make a man curious. What sort of scandalous things did your pretty hands reveal about me? Why does the possibility of me knowing what those gestures mean reduce you to a blinking, red-faced mess?”

Yuuri was regretting perching himself on Viktor’s counter. He was cornered here, and there was no way to hide the shifting of his legs from Viktor’s warm breath and suggestive lip caressing. This was it. This was the place where Yuuri was going to die.

The exact moment Yuuri was about to spill out of sheer nerves was the moment his savior braced his paws against the other side of the counter.

Yuuri swung his arm out rather ungracefully and pointed beserkley behind Viktor, to where Makkachin was about two seconds from devouring the entire pizza.

Viktor whirled around. As the poodle was scolded and shooed away, Yuuri took the moment to let out a large sigh of relief and hop off the counter. He padded to Viktor’s living room with slightly shaking legs, and pretended to look through the movie options. Viktor joined him a few minutes later, Yuuri’s cheeks already reddening at the reminder of their previous encounter.

Yuuri cleared his throat, willing himself to not be intimidated or embarrassed. As he focused on Viktor’s movie collection he realized Viktor had excellent taste, and would honestly be happy with any of the selections.

Yuuri rolled his eyes as Viktor pressed the cover of _The King and the Skater_ against Yuuri’s chest, the jacket on the DVD a perfect copy of his T-shirt. “Okay, but seriously, can we watch this one? I know it's a cheesy musical but I’m honestly in the mood for a good laugh.”

A little smile danced across Yuuri’s lips as he thought of Phichit. _My best friend would approve of you._ Yuuri mouthed. Well, in reality, it didn’t matter if Viktor loved Phichit’s favorite movie or not. He was Viktor fucking Nikiforov, his figure skating best friend would approve even if Viktor would rather burn the movie than watch it.

Viktor grinned. “Then your friend has excellent taste!” To Yuuri’s confusion, Viktor sprung up and walked towards the kitchen instead of putting the movie in.

Yuuri frowned and cleared his throat to get Viktor’s attention. _Um, Viktor, aren’t you going to put the movie in first?_

Viktor smirked. “The pizza is in the kitchen. Sorry, I’m not straight but my priorities sure are.”

Yuuri was suddenly launched into a violent coughing fit, sputtering over his own breaths as his cheeks reddened for the thousandth time that night. Viktor had remembered the painfully stupid comment Yuuri had texted him, had been dwelling on it so much that he outright threw the words back in Yuuri’s face. Viktor didn’t give him time to respond, and strutted to the kitchen pridefully.

Grumbling in anger at himself that he’d allowed Viktor to fluster him yet again, Yuuri snatched the DVD and put it in himself. He started pressing buttons a little too forcefully, his lip jutted out in a childlike pout. After making sure that the Russian movie was on English subtitle mode, he turned the volume to the absolute maximum out of spite. Yuuri smirked pettily as he felt the intense vibrations of the speakers, knowing that Viktor was probably clutching his ears.

Yuuri stood from his crouch only to plop back down on Viktor’s designer couch, awaiting the other skater’s reaction. He was hoping for a scowl, one that would wipe the flirty look right off of Viktor’s sultry face.

Yuuri grinned. The night had only begun, and Yuuri was _not_ going to be the only victim tonight.

 

* * *

 

_Viktor Nikiforov_

Viktor picked up the pizza from where it was cooling on the counter, only to drop it back down with a loud clang as booming sound suddenly ambushed his ears.

 _“Vot der’mo!”_ Viktor cried, slapping his hands over his ears. He watched as Makkachin scrambled under the counter, cowering at the sudden noise. Viktor shook his head. He didn’t remember putting the DVD in, so how in the world--

Oh. Yuuri.

Despite the roaring in his ears, Viktor laughed suddenly. Yuuri was just too cute. Had he no idea how loud the sound was, or was he perfectly cognizant of it, happy to let Viktor’s ears die an agonizing death?

He padded to his living room, hands clamped over his ears, and hid a little smile at the sight of Yuuri sinking into the couch cushions. He was reading the back of _The King and the Skater_ DVD as if nothing abnormal in the world was going on. The sight of him sitting there, perfectly oblivious, was one of the most endearing sights Viktor had ever seen, even if it turned out Yuuri was doing this for revenge. He walked to stand directly in front of Yuuri, the raven haired man looking up at Viktor with large, innocent chocolate eyes. His brows furrowed adorably at Viktor’s hands clamped over the sides of his face.

“Yuuri, darling, the television is just a tiny bit too loud.”

 _Is it?_ He mouthed, returning his gaze back to the DVD he was ‘reading.’

Viktor snorted. Nice try. He peered over Yuuri’s lap, nudging his foot slightly to get his attention.

“Hmmm.” Viktor mused, trying not to smirk. “I didn’t know you were so proficient in reading Russian.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing in shock at being caught so red-handed. _I-I was looking at the pictures!_

“Mhm.” Viktor swiped the remote from Yuuri’s lap, turning the volume down to a reasonable level without breaking eye contact.

Yuuri scowled. _Just press play._

Viktor laughed. After retrieving the forgotten pizza, Viktor shut the lights off, started the movie, and sank into the couch cushions next to Yuuri a little closer than he probably should have. As much as Viktor wanted to take the younger man into his arms and bury his face into his soft hair, Yuuri hadn’t made any advances towards him yet. Viktor knew he had a tendency to rush into things with past lovers, and Yuuri deserved a pace that was comfortable for him.

To Viktor’s delight, the younger skater didn’t seem to mind the close proximity. Instead of scooting away nervously like Viktor thought he would, he tucked his feet underneath him, reached for a piece of pizza, and pulled Viktor’s throw blanket over the both of them.

Viktor gradually felt his heart began to speed up. It was slight, but was still an abnormal feeling in which Viktor wasn’t in any way used to. Yuuri was bashful and shy, and had no idea that he was the one with the upper hand every time the two of them interacted. Yuuri made Viktor flustered and on his toes like a teenager, drove him crazy with the desire to be closer to him, to hold him, to kiss him, to _know_ him.

Viktor was just excellent at hiding it.

Viktor had been involved in one night stands, month-long relationships, even a year-long one, but nobody had made Viktor’s heart race like sweet Katsuki Yuuri did. It had only been a week, what made Yuuri so different? What was it about Yuuri that made Viktor feel like a reckless, confused, infatuated teenager?

Viktor didn’t realize he was staring until he watched a faint blush creep into Yuuri’s cheekbones as he chewed. Yuuri was radiant even while doing mundane things like eating pizza, but Viktor knew he had to stop. He had been extremely lucky so far to be able to pull Yuuri out of his shell bit by bit, and wasn’t about to ruin it with an uncomfortable stare.

Viktor swallowed as Yuuri’s lovely, honey-glazed eyes met his nervously. _Is something wrong?_ He mouthed, biting his lip.

Viktor blinked. “You, um, have sauce on your lip.” He blurted, and then stuffed a piece of pizza down his throat to quiet his idiotic mouth.

Viktor forced himself to focus on the television, willed himself to relax. There really was nothing to be worked up about. Their date had gone wonderfully so far, Yuuri was eating Viktor’s homemade pizza like it wasn’t charred garbage, and they were snuggled up close on Viktor’s comfortable, feather-stuffed couch under a warm blanket. Makkachin was curled at their feet contentedly, the situation so warm and sweet that the tension left Viktor’s shoulders and melted into the cushions.

A few moments after Viktor succumbed to comfort, he felt Yuuri’s side relax into his. Viktor’s heart fluttered at the fact that his temporary home was a safe environment for Yuuri, a place where the usual tightness of Yuuri’s body was nowhere to be found. Emboldened by Yuuri’s tranquil sigh, Viktor carefully wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.

This went on for about an hour. As much as Viktor enjoyed the simple closeness of Yuuri’s body, a dragging part in the movie was approaching and Viktor was getting a little restless. There was so much he wanted to know about Yuuri, so many things he wanted to say, but Viktor was hesitant to reveal his true thoughts. The last time he’d ran his mouth without restraint he’d practically poured his heart out, which had made Yuuri severely uncomfortable. It was the reason why they were always teasing each other, the reason why Viktor was always poking fun. Teasing and playful flirting was safe and hadn’t caused Yuuri to retreat back into his shell like heartfelt conversations did. So instead of trying to initiate a serious conversation, Viktor did the easy thing.

He stuck his finger in his mouth and poked Yuuri on the cheek.

Yuuri jolted in surprise, wiping his face with his hand profusely and grimacing at Viktor. His face was a perfect combination of shock and disgust, and caused Viktor to throw his head back and laugh.

 _Gross!_ Yuuri scowled, but his eyes were full of humor. _Viktor, what in the world was that for?_

“I don’t know, really. I got bored.”

 _Well, I’m trying to watch the movie._ Yuuri’s attention turned back to the television, and Viktor pouted. Oh, that certainly wouldn’t do. Grinning cheekily, Viktor snatched Yuuri’s glasses right from his nose and scooted to the very far edge of the couch.

Yuuri’s hands grasped his face with a startled cry, his shock causing Viktor to laugh harder. Yuuri was an excellent actor, his hands flying from his face, to his hair, until they finally twisted desperately into the fabric of the couch.

“You can stop pretending, Yuuri.” Viktor grinned at Yuuri’s terrified expression in Viktor’s direction, Yuuri’s hands mindlessly palming out.

“V...v-v…”

“A little bird told me that your glasses are just an accessory. They _are_ awfully charming, but I can assure you that you look gorgeous both ways.” Viktor raised an eyebrow at Yuuri’s frantic antics, and then fondly rubbed the blue metal between his fingers.

“V-v--”

“I know you think you were pulling a fast one on me with the stereo volume, sweet Yuuri, but you’ll soon discover that--”

“Viktor! Give me back my glasses! _Right now!”_

Viktor’s entire body clenched, his breath hitching in a choked gasp. He immediately held the glasses out in Yuuri’s direction.

After squinting at Viktor’s outstretched arm, Yuuri scowled and snatched the glasses from his fingers. After securing them on his nose, Yuuri whipped his head around and turned his seething gaze towards Viktor.

“You idiot!” Yuuri spat, crossing his arms to hide his shaking hands. “I know you were just trying to have fun, but what were you _thinking?_ Do you have any idea what it's like for a deaf person to be stripped of their only reliance of what's going on around them? What it's like to not only be able to hear, but not be able to see as well? Do you know how utterly terrifying that is?”

Viktor was at a complete loss, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His face was burning, and when he tried to speak, only a choked gasp escaped his lips.

He felt guilty. He felt guilty beyond belief, the kind of guilt that he knew was going to cause him to lay awake when he tried to sleep that night. However, the strange thing was that a warm, stirring feeling in the bottom of his gut was trumping the initial hate he felt for making yet another stupid mistake regarding Yuuri.

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m sorry, I...I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that.” He winced. “I’ve been having a great time with you, Viktor, and I will never hold something like this, something you had no knowledge of, against you, but...please. D-don’t do that again.” Yuuri flushed suddenly, and sat back down with rigid shoulders. His attention was on the television once more, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

After a few moments of tense silence, Yuuri shocked Viktor yet again by letting out a short, humorless little laugh. “This is certainly not how I imagined my first spoken words to you. I ruin everything.” He rubbed his hands roughly down the length of his face, and Viktor balked.

 _“You_ ruin everything?” Viktor stood suddenly, his voice an odd combination between incredulous and flustered. He’d imagined Yuuri’s voice doing a lot of things; making him sigh dazedly with love, making him smile with admiration, but not, not…

Viktor glanced down at his pants and promptly sat back down, choking.

Not _this_.

He couldn’t believe this. He’d just been yelled at by someone he greatly admired, and _this_ was his body’s reaction? He felt so disgusting he could barely think, willing the ground to open him up and swallow him whole.

“Yes, I ruin everything, you’re the last person who’s done me enough harm to justify me snapping at you and calling you an idiot. Please understand that I trust you, Viktor, but when people take my glasses, it’s a really scary experience.” He ran a hand through his raven hair, his voice finally at a normal tone in which Viktor could assess.

It was doing nothing to help Viktor’s current situation.

“It’s my fault, Yuuri. I’m so sorry. Yuuko told me that your glasses were simply an accessory, and even then, I shouldn’t have--”

“She was right, Viktor, don’t be sorry. It just so happened that I decided to wear my real ones tonight.” He smiled a little ruefully, pushing Viktor closer and closer to the edge of insanity.

Viktor had imagined Yuuri’s voice being sweet, gentle, and mild, just like the man whom the voice belonged to. Viktor had assumed that Yuuri would need lots of hugs and words of affirmation once he finally worked up the courage to talk, and Viktor had been planning on giving Yuuri all the reassurance he needed. However, Viktor was, yet again, wrong (he’d noticed he’d had a tendency to be wrong regarding the beautiful Katsuki Yuuri) and was currently face to face with a man who needed no assurance that his voice was extraordinary.

No, Yuuri’s voice wasn’t meek and mild. It was the complete opposite of what Viktor had been expecting. Yuuri’s voice was full of confidence, assertiveness, and fullness, with enough sex appeal to make Viktor’s knees weak.

Yuuri’s voice was like midnight ink pouring over smooth marble, a voice that made Viktor think of silken sheets and ivory pillows. It was a voice that made Viktor relax and tense up at the same time, a voice that held just enough of an unintentional, sexy slur that it had Viktor’s blood rushing south. Not that Yuuri himself wasn’t sexy, but the fact that Yuuri could make such enrapturing sounds with his mouth was enough to make Viktor bite his lip, digging his fingers into the couch cushions painfully.

“Viktor? Are you alright?” _Stop talking. No, don’t stop talking. Shit. Fuck._

“Sorry. I was just, um, thinking.” _Pervert._

Yuuri cocked his head to the side. “About what?”

 _Dead puppies. My babushka bathing. Yurio’s terrifying cat-ear wearing skating fans. Oh, screw it._ “I was thinking of your voice.” Viktor’s words were breathless.

Yuuri folded in on himself suddenly. _Oh._ He was back to mouthing again, and Viktor inhaled sharply.

“N-no, not in a bad way! Shit, I’m sorry, I should have elaborated. Your voice is--”

 _I knew I shouldn’t have said anything out loud._ His hunched position was anguished, his eyes full of remorse. _My voice is hideous._

“Yuuri, no, you’re wrong!”

 _You don’t have to lie to me._ His eyes were angry again, but Viktor saw the layers upon layers of self-consciousness under the intense stare. _I watched you hesitate, watched the second-hand embarrassment on your face._ Every word broke Viktor’s heart, and it was enough to snap him out of it.

He got up from his seat on the couch and kneeled in front of Yuuri, gripping the other man’s chin. Despite Viktor’s blushing cheeks, he met Yuuri’s tear-filled gaze and willed his eyes to be hard as stone. Yuuri needed to understand how dead serious he was.

“You’re right, I hesitated. But it wasn’t from second-hand embarrassment. It was from first-hand embarrassment.”

The only light the room provided was the dim, blue glow from the television, a glow that illuminated the tears trailing down Yuuri’s cheeks. The man was frowning now, sniffing. _What?_

Viktor exhaled to steady himself, but his breath came out shaky. “When I listened to your voice just now, it made me, um...i-it made me think of…”

Yuuri wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, but he still looked skeptical. _Yes?_

Viktor squeezed his eyes shut. He deserved this, he wholeheartedly deserved this, should welcome the humiliation with open arms. “The moment you began to talk to me, it made my blood rush. Every time you said my name, it made me want to pull my hair and...a-and…” _Fuck._ Why was this so difficult? He was Viktor Nikiforov, he didn’t get flustered.

Seconds passed before Viktor opened his eyes again, and Viktor prayed Yuuri read the burning on his face so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. Yuuri looked contemplative, his bottom lip being worked between his white teeth. _Say something,Yuuri. Please._

“Are you trying to say…” Yuuri paused when he noticed Viktor’s breath hitch the moment Yuuri’s words were released. Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth falling open, but then Viktor watched as those perfect pink lips curled into a coy smile as the gorgeous skater seemed to find what he was looking for.

Yuuri leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his dark eyes smouldering. “Viktor, are you trying to say that my voice turns you on?”

Viktor sucked on his teeth. _Dear God._ He closed his eyes again, mortified. “Yes.” He whispered.

Then, as if the situation couldn't get any worse, Yuuri threw his head back and laughed.

Viktor cursed the warm blooming in his chest at the lovely sound, willing himself to be frustrated. What a cruel man, how could sweet Yuuri _laugh_ at him?

Viktor may had taken his glasses and started this mess, but they were definitely even now.

“Sh-shut up.” Viktor muttered, getting flashbacks of all the times he’d winked at men and women alike, all the times he’d swept people off their feet with merely a look. What would those people say if they saw him now? The great Viktor Nikiforov, five-time world champion, sitting at the foot of a couch while a beautiful man laughed and kinkshamed him.

“I’m going to get some water.” Viktor muttered, rising and trudging grumpily around the younger skater who was now clutching his stomach with giddy laughter. Viktor ignored him, but proved how weak he was for Katsuki Yuuri when said skater’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed between giggles, and even though Viktor was the subject of laughter, his breath was still stolen away. “I-I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong idea. I’m not laughing at you.”

Viktor shifted. “You aren’t?”

Yuuri shook his head. He looked like he wanted to pull Viktor down next to him on the couch, but was too timid to do so. After Viktor had complied and sat with a distance to make Yuuri comfortable, the latter cleared his throat.

“I-I--” Yuuri let out a little laugh again, his face in his hands. “What you said was very sweet, Viktor, but I laughed because I just couldn’t believe it. I still _can’t_ believe it.” He shook his head, his expression turning more embarrassed. He met Viktor’s eyes bashfully, his expression adorably awed. “Why would Viktor Nikiforov, living legend who could literally pick _anyone_ , find someone like me attractive? And the idea that my voice, my _voice_ , turns you on is just so…s-so…” He dissolved into giggles.

Viktor scooted closer to him, until the sides of their legs were pressed snugly together. “How could I find someone like _you_ attractive?” Viktor began, his voice much softer now. He waited until Yuuri’s quiet laughs faltered and stuttered away under Viktor’s intense expression. “Let’s see, I think I’ll begin with your eyes, since they are what seems to capture my attention the most." 

_Easy, Viktor. Don’t scare him away._

“Your eyes are so expressive, Yuuri. Full of life and love. They sparkle when you’re looking for something, and crinkle in the corners when you laugh.”

Yuuri’s mouth had fallen open, eyes widening as if to prove Viktor’s point of how exquisite they were.

“Your hair.” Viktor reached up and playfully fingered a strand. It’s such a beautiful color, and so soft, too.”

“It’s just black.” Yuuri muttered, ducking his head self-consciously.

“And your cheeks.” Viktor pinched them, causing Yuuri to scrunch his nose cutely. “I love that even though you have a toned skater’s body, your cheeks still keep their baby fat. It’s adorable. Oh, and when you blush like that, it’s really cute too.” Viktor teased, laughing at Yuuri’s bewildered expression.

“And your voice.” Viktor’s eyes closed. Now that Yuuri’s voice had strayed from the yelling that Viktor had found so seductive, he was able to chart other mesmerizing things about Yuuri’s voice. His voice was so rich, so kind and warm, without a hint of coldness or hardness. Viktor loved Yuuri’s thick Japanese accent, loved the endearing way that it seemed to be a little difficult for Yuuri to control his volume. Viktor loved Yuuri’s bubbly laugh, loved his breathy giggles, loved the sound of his voice and everything about it, but how could Viktor sum that up in a few words?

He couldn't. So, barriers be damned, Viktor brushed Yuuri’s hair out of his face with nimble fingers, leaning impossibly close to breath his words against Yuuri’s lips.

“Yuuri.” Viktor begins slowly, drawing out the name as if he were tasting it. “I want you to know that you have the most beautiful voice in the world.” His breath hitched as Yuuri’s eyes slid shut, rounded lips tilting up ever so slightly towards Viktor’s breathless ones.

Viktor’s last thought was of Yuuri’s captivating laugh, before he met the man halfway and closed the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Viktor. You and your voice kink. Could we really have expected you to react in any other way?
> 
> Hope the tooth-rotting fluff was worth the wait, next chapter is when the real plot of the story begins to unravel!!
> 
> I am so grateful to you all for supporting me so far. I am sorry to those who's comments I haven't replied to; I try to reply to everyone because honestly, you all mean the world to me, but school has demanded a lot of my time lately. Words of affirmation are an excellent fuel for writing, and I couldn't have gotten this far without everyone's sweet encouragement. Thank you so much!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ALL ARE SO LOVELY!!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all of the shout-outs and kind compliments this fic has recieved!! Every comment has been so incredibly sweet, and I cannot verbally express how wonderful your words make me feel. Thank you. 
> 
> I am very sorry for the extended time it took for this update. My school's musical started a month ago, meaning I've been on about three hours of sleep for the past week and a half! Life has been crazy, but I'm so grateful for the wonderful support from all of you! 
> 
> Also, I would like to apologize for any mistakes this chapter may have. My beta decided to randomly drop out, so revising and editing everything all on my own has been rather taxing and time consuming. Once again I apologize for the late update, but this chapter is extra long to make up for it!! I hope it is worth the wait, thank you all so much!!

 

Naturally, a text from Yuuri was what woke Viktor the next day.

 

**_Hi, Viktor! I’ve been helping around the onsen for a few hours but my shift is over in just a few more minutes. Wanna come over?_ **

 

Viktor sprung out of bed. He was whipped. He was so fucking whipped for this man.

Stumbling over his dog who had bounded off the bed in Viktor’s excitement (“ _Sorry, Makka! Papa loves you!”)_ Viktor scrambled into a pair of pants. He squinted at the windows of his apartment, the light pouring through the curtains illuminating the fringe that hung in his face a blinding shade of white. He knew it was late in the afternoon, but was not used to starting his day off at such an hour. He always woke early for skating, and hated the sluggishness that came with sleeping in.

He checked his phone for the time and groaned when it read that it was almost twelve. That was six hours he could have spent skating, spending time with his dog, or with Yuuri. Maybe all three at the same time.

Viktor glanced at his poodle. “Should we get you ice skates, Makkachin?”

The dog barked in agreement, and Viktor was suddenly plagued with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. All his time with Yuuri had caused Viktor to subconsciously prioritize other things over his most loyal companion.

Viktor sighed, and dropped to his knees so he was at his dog’s level. The poodle began enthusiastically licking his face, causing Viktor to laugh and scratch his fingers into Makkachin’s apricot curls.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met Yuuri, you know.” Viktor cooed, smiling at the sound of Makkachin’s tail thumping the carpet. “You’re such a good boy. This time weeks ago you were sick and weak, but look at you now. You’re so strong, all healed up!” Viktor buried his face in the dog’s curls, his heart swelling with nostalgia and gratitude. “You’re not the only one who’s healed these past few weeks, sweet boy.” He whispered.

His phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. Instead of parting from the dog, he chose to sit criss cross on the floor with his pet in his lap, fur on his clothes be damned. Viktor unlocked his phone over a mass of fluffy curls, and took a quick selfie with his face pressed against Makkachin before opening his unread text.

 

**_Last night was really fun, by the way._ **

 

Viktor bit back a grin and buried his face back into his pet’s fur. Viktor groaned as he felt an all-too familiar blush bloom across his face as he recalled the events from last night, silently cursing Katsuki Yuuri for making him blush so easily.

Yuuri. Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri. That word never seemed to leave his mind. Their movie date the previous night was the reason Viktor had slept in so late; he couldn’t stop reeling about his first kiss with Yuuri. It had kept him up during ungodly hours of the night, the feeling of warm, gentle lips caressing his own on permanent repeat in his head. His memories had supplied him with snippets of Yuuri’s laugh that would make Viktor beam and bury his face in his pillow, and then supplied him with sultry, silky words from Yuuri’s mouth that made him twist his hands into the sheets. Yuuri. Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.

“Makkachin,” Viktor moaned, “Do you remember the time when Yakov finally let me go off my diet to try Kit-kat for the first time and I became temporarily obsessed? Well, Yuuri Katsuki is Kit-kat and my infatuation with him is _not_ going to be temporary.” Makkachin let out a soft _woof_ and sniffed his shirt in which Viktor assumed was understanding.

“I know, right? How dare he steal my heart like this.”

Viktor typed Yuuri a quick, enthusiastic response and posted his selfie with Makkachin on Instagram before finally getting up off the floor.

“Makka, how do you feel about spending an afternoon at a hot springs resort?”

 

* * *

 

“I'm here!” Viktor announced to no one in particular as he strolled through the front entrance of the Katsuki family business. He was already incredibly comfortable with the Katsuki family, each member just as endearing and friendly as the last. Yuuri had introduced Viktor a few days prior, blushing and stuttering as he gestured to each member of his family with his eyes fixed on his feet. The introduction had gone wonderfully, besides Yuuri’s screeching when Minako had expressed her pride in Yuuri for “reeling in a hot one.”

He beamed at Yuuri’s mother as she peeked her head around the corner. “I brought the adorable poodle we were talking about at dinner a few nights ago! I hope that’s alright?”

“Of course it's alright! I told you we were used to having poodles around, remember? Yuuri had one just like yours, though Vicchan was much smaller.”

“V-Vicchan?" 

Mari entered the room and greeted Viktor before he could ponder the name any longer. He expected Mari to go tend to her own business once she had exchanged a polite hello, but to Viktor’s surprise, she grabbed his arm and ushered him past a doorway. “Sorry to interrupt the conversation so suddenly, but there’s something you’ve got to see.”

Viktor blinked in surprise, almost tripping as she dragged him towards the restaurant. He could hear the fond voice of Yuuri’s mother cooing over Makkachin in the next room.

“Okay, but what are we--”

“Shh.” Mari shushed him, pushing the two of them behind a bamboo decorated rice panel. She pointed, and Viktor inhaled sharply.

Yuuri was waiting a table at the Yu-topia. The first thing Viktor noticed was how animatedly Yuuri was chatting to the older couple he was waiting on, the water pitcher in his hand sloshing as he made a variety of gestures and hand movements. He looked elated, grinning as the couple laughed at something he said 

“Wow.” Viktor breathed. He’d never seen Yuuri like this.

“He’s been like this all day.” Mari whispered, giving Viktor a knowing smile. “Talking nonstop. Reading food labels, advertisements in magazines, greeting all the onsen visitors.” Her lips quirked. “It’s kind of cute.”

“It’s _adorable.”_ Viktor didn’t take his eyes off the giddy man, his apron bunching around his stomach as he laughed heartily. Viktor wished he could capture the magnificent sound and play it on repeat forever. “Has he acted like this before?”

“A few times. He used to open up like this after a particularly good session with a speaking tutor. If the tutor expressed that Yuuri was doing well, it would give him confidence to speak. He barely spoke at all in high school, but after those lessons he would come home in an excellent mood and babble till his voice was hoarse. Those were our mother’s favorite days.” She smiled lightly, her eyes still trained on her brother. She and Viktor simply watched, Viktor trying to ignore the strong fluttering in his chest.

“I think...I think Yuuri has a lot more to express than he’d like to let on. I think the days he’s like this are the days something in him snaps, where he can’t hold in the thoughts anymore. I’m wondering if that’s the reason he took up ice skating and ballet, because, well…body expression has always been much easier for Yuuri than verbal.”

“Yuuri is…” Viktor waited patiently for Mari to continue, her words growing softer as she watched Yuuri giggle. “Our parents and Yuuri’s friends have always considered Yuuri an introvert, someone who’d much rather keep to himself, but I don’t think Yuuri is an introvert at all. I think he’s an extrovert, someone who thrives with close friends and wishes for close relationships, but is too shy and insecure to truly pursue them.” Her eyes were sad now. “I wish he didn’t need so many words of affirmation. Alongside being generous and kind, Yuuri is also fun, sweet, and playful.” She snickered then. “Unfortunately, he only lets this side show when he’s intoxicated.”

Viktor didn’t quite catch the last part of her sentence, too enraptured by Yuuri’s beaming smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” Mari waved her hand. It took Viktor a moment to realize she was waiting for his response.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this side of Yuuri,” Viktor began, meaning it wholeheartedly as he watched Yuuri’s eyes sparkle, but Mari, why--”

“One-hundred and five calories in this bottle of sake, but the wine only has ninety calories. What makes the sake fifteen more calories than the wine?” Yuuri had moved to the bar counter, seemingly musing to himself, but was talking way too loudly for it to be a little comment to himself. It was incredibly funny, and made Viktor laugh.

“Anyway, I was going to say that I love this side of Yuuri, but am wondering what the occasion is. He hasn’t been with any tutors recently, has he?”

“No.” Mari confirmed.

“So what’s brought him out of his shell?" 

Mari paused. She turned, so she was facing Viktor instead of Yuuri, her usually stoic face filled with curious surprise. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Viktor shifted. “See what?”

Mari’s stare was beginning to unnerve Viktor. He wondered if she was the overprotective-sister type. Was she contemplating Viktor’s intentions towards her little brother, calculating the probability of Viktor secretly being a murderer? The expression on Mari’s face greatly contradicted Viktor’s speculations, her expression the opposite of cautious and wary. Mari was usually cool and passive, and Viktor’s eyes widened as raw emotion broke her stoic demeanor.

“It’s much easier to open up to the rest of the world once the person you care about the most has accepted you.”

The air was stolen from Viktor’s lungs at her words.

He slowly began to understand what she meant, the weight of Yuuri’s returning affections finally settling warmly into his chest.

“You did this, Viktor. Because of you, he is...my brother is _happy.”_ Her voice broke. “How long have you known one another? A few months? A year?”

Viktor was buzzing. “A few weeks.”

Mari balked then, some of the tenderness dropping from her eyes, though her expression was still fond. “A few _weeks?”_ She laughed then, shaking her head. “The two of you have been acting as if you’ve known one another for years. Well, I suppose our Yuuri has always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But if he’s happy…” She shrugged. “I’m happy.”

Viktor’s eyes darted back to where Yuuri was reading labels at the counter. “I make him happy.” He breathed aloud, as if saying it would make it true.

“Yes, Viktor. You do.” The brown eyes that so strongly resembled Yuuri’s were full of acceptance. “My family and I have been waiting a very long time for Yuuri to open up to the world like this. Thank you.”

Viktor wanted to tell her that he hadn’t done anything, that it was _him_ who was falling for _Yuuri,_ but before he could protest Mari grabbed his arm. She yanked the both of them out of their hiding spot, Viktor almost knocking over the rice panel. He ungracefully righted it, awkwardly arranging the crooked bamboo, his mind still scrambling to put his thoughts into one place.

_I make Yuuri happy. I make Yuuri happy. He may feel the same for me too._

“Seventy calories in shochu, that’s less than vodka. Will have to tell Minako-sensei that.” Yuuri snorted.

Mari stomped her foot loudly to get Yuuri’s attention. With any other person Viktor would have considered it extremely rude, but he assumed Yuuri could feel the vibrations in the floor that the stomp cast out. Viktor’s suspicions were confirmed as Yuuri looked up and smiled, as if it were the most normal greeting in the world.

“Hi Mari, I was just--eh, Viktor!” Yuuri scrambled from behind the counter, almost knocking over a bottle of sake. “W-what are you doing here?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “You texted me, remember?”

“Oh! R-right! Sorry, I got distracted with the--”

“Yuuri. Indoor voice.” Mari chided gently.

Yuuri blushed, and then switched to sign language. Viktor tried not to pout.

The skater and his sister became engaged in a brief conversation, Yuuri bashfully glancing at Viktor every once in awhile. Mari gestured something that made Yuuri balk, his hands flying furiously as his face grew increasingly red. Viktor tilted his head to the side as he watched, curious.

He’d secretly been spending his evenings (the ones he didn’t spend with Yuuri of course) trying to pick up the gist of sign language. He’d learned basic words and phrases like “excuse me” and “bless you,” but still had a lot to learn. He watched as Yuuri inhaled sharply and signed what was clearly “ _no”_ several times. He signed so vigorously that his arm flew into a bamboo plant, Viktor stifling a snort as Yuuri let out an indignant squawk. Mari burst into laughter and finally patted Viktor on the back, making her exit as her brother simultaneously tried to balance a bamboo plant and a wobbling bottle of sake.

Viktor hid his smile. “Need some help?” He said casually, reaching for the precautiously tipping bamboo.

Yuuri blushed, but allowed Viktor to reach around him to carefully right the plant. Viktor probably leaned a little closer than necessary against Yuuri’s warm back as he arranged the leaves, but as soon as Viktor noticed the lovely flush creeping into Yuuri’s ears, he decided he didn’t give a damn.

 _Maybe next time I’ll knock down_ all _the bamboo while Yuuri’s sleeping so we can do this more often._

Before Viktor could chide his conscious for being such a dumbass, Yuuri spun in his arms suddenly. He was rigid. “Thanks.” He blurted loudly.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. What had Mari signed to him that had gotten him so riled up? Instead of inquiring, Viktor gently placed a finger against Yuuri’s lips, swallowing a hum as Yuuri’s warm breath tickled his hand.

“You’re radiant when you talk, _solnyshko_ , but you’re just a tiny bit too loud right now.” Mari had informed Viktor of why it was imperative to correct Yuuri’s volume when he spoke, otherwise he would sink into silent self-consciousness. Criticism was just as important to Yuuri as words of affirmation were; the skater despised being oblivious to his actions.

The younger man furrowed his brows as if in concentration, and then tentatively said, “Hi.” His voice was now at a whisper yell, the level of cuteness surely enough to send Viktor into cardiac arrest. He curled his toes in his shoes, anything to keep himself from tackle-snuggling the skater on the spot.

“Hello.” Viktor grinned, and then threw caution to hell. He grasped one of Yuuri’s hands in his own, and pressed a warm kiss to the back of it.

Yuuri’s face flushed, the honey brown of his wide eyes contrasting beautifully with the scarlet of his cheeks. To Viktor’s surprise, Yuuri intertwined their fingers once Viktor pulled their hands from his lips.

“I just got done with my shift.” Yuuri said, his voice now at a normal level. He raised a careful eyebrow at Viktor, and Viktor nodded encouragingly.

“Beautiful.”

“Anyway, I’m free for the rest of the afternoon, but we are expecting a party of twenty in a few minutes so it's going to get a little noisy. Where would you like to go?”

Viktor thought for a moment. “We could go to your room?” He suggested.

Yuuri blinked, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Oh! Sure. It’s right this…” Yuuri trailed off, and his eyes suddenly widened.

“...Yuuri? Is that not okay? If not it's fine, we can go to my--”

“I-it’s fine!” He interjected, his face suddenly crimson. “I-I’ll be right back. I’ve g-got to go, get, u-um...yeah.” The man spun on his heel and speed-walked down a doorway, Viktor staring after him, flabbergasted. He contemplated going to get Makkachin, knowing the dog had a way of calming Yuuri down, but wasn’t about to tear his dog away from the delighted laughter of Yuuri’s parents as they fawned over him in Japanese.

Yuuri returned a few moments later, pulling what looked to be a piece of tape from his finger. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” Viktor smiled at him reassuringly, stepping forward to intertwine their fingers once more. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” Yuuri released a breath, and then gently pulled Viktor into a hallway. He couldn’t help but feel just a little giddy as Yuuri tugged him along. This was another part of Yuuri’s life that was going to be revealed to Viktor, and after all, one could tell a lot about a person from the contents and decor of their room.

He wondered what Yuuri’s walls consisted of. Did he have posters of his favorite actors and actresses, or did he favor decorating his room with pictures of his family and friends? Was he the type of person who left their room how it was throughout childhood, with peeling stickers on the nightstand and stuffed animals under the bed? Did his room change with his interests?

Yuuri’s room was in a secluded section of the inn, the very last door of a seemingly endless corridor. His large brown eyes flitted to Viktor’s once before he finally grasped the handle, the door swinging open with a gentle creak.

Viktor stepped in, and was instantly overwhelmed by the drastic, amazing, spectacular revelation of…

Viktor frowned. Nothing.

Well, not nothing, exactly. Yuuri had a comfortable looking twin bed, with rumpled navy covers littered with textbooks. He had a small display of ballet and skating awards, and what looked to be a red scarf peeking from a dresser. The scarf and the vibrant ribbons from various successes of Yuuri’s were the only pops of color in the room. Viktor didn’t mean to be cynical or judgemental, but couldn't help but note how odd it was that Yuuri didn’t have anything decorating his walls.

“Sorry for the clutter.” Yuuri broke the silence sheepishly, clearing textbooks off his bed. He shoved them in a desk drawer before Viktor could peek at the titles.

“What are you studying?” Viktor wondered aloud, plopping ungracefully onto Yuuri’s soft down of covers.

“Ah, it's not set in stone yet, but I’m leaning towards education for the deaf. I’m probably going to end up being an elementary school teacher because I love kids so much, but…” Yuuri paused, his eyes glued pensively on the wooden desk beneath his fingertips. “But...well, the next part doesn't matter.” He let out a breathy little laugh, and Viktor straightened on the bed.

“What were you going to say?”

Yuuri looked hesitant for a moment, but finally sighed and sunk onto the bed next to Viktor. He carted a hand through his raven hair, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.  

“If I’m going to be completely honest, I’d really like to open my own ballet and skating studio for children deaf or hard of hearing, like Aiko.” A little smile worked its way on the corners of Yuuri’s mouth. “I know it sounds silly, because I don’t know the first thing about running a business, but...a disability…a disability shouldn’t keep children from pursuing what they love, from following their dreams.” Yuuri’s voice had fallen low, and Viktor watched as the ever-present sparkle slowly left his eyes.

Viktor wondered, with an achingly painful stab in his chest, if Yuuri wasn’t applying his words to his own life.

“I wasted my potential.” Yuuri began quietly, his eyes trained on the comforter beneath them. “It’s too late for me. But it's not too late for young children like Aiko, and I want to do everything I can to make a difference in the lives of as many as I can.”

Viktor was silent a moment, letting Yuuri’s words sink in. He found he wasn't surprised in the least by Yuuri’s selfless, altruistic wish, but was beginning to fall harder for the loving, gentle skater.

“You’re wrong.” Viktor interjected softly, his words growing more firm as the weight of Yuuri’s words took toll. “You’re what, twenty-three? Twenty-four? It’s not too late for you at all. Sure, you would need to work your way from the bottom up, but…” Viktor shook his head, frowning at the insanity of Yuuri’s statement. “Yuuri, you’ve been doing this your entire life and you have phenomenal talent. I mean that _honestly_. I may admire you, but I’m also a professional figure skater and wouldn’t give you false hope.”

Yuuri blushed a little at Viktor’s words, but that didn’t soften the pang that the sad little smile on Yuuri’s face did to Viktor’s heart. “That’s very kind of you, Viktor, but I’ve already got my life set for me here in Hassetsu. I’m enrolled in college. I’m working on a degree, and I can’t just invest thousands of dollars on schooling only to waste it.”

“Who says you’d have to waste it?” Viktor said breathlessly, suddenly grabbing Yuuri’s hands. His mind began treading on treacherous waters, indulging in extremely dangerous things; supplying visuals of a future with Yuuri, a future of them traveling together as skaters. They could be so _happy_ , a world where the two things Viktor cared about most, Yuuri and the ice, could be hand in hand, never leaving Viktor’s side.

It was selfish. It was so incredibly selfish for him to dream, to potentially take away an unbelievably gifted teacher away from children, but Yuuri had his whole life to teach! Skating professionally was something that only lasted a few years, and it wasn’t too late. He could do it.

 _They_ could do it. Live together, work together, dream together, build a life that was stable and sound and happy.

“Yuuri, think about it!” The younger man was now staring at their intertwined fingers, eyes blown wide in response to Viktor’s sudden passion. “I admire how you want to make other children’s dreams a reality, but you have time to do that later in life. Why not make _your_ dream a reality _now?”_

“I-I…” Yuuri floundered a moment, and a spark of hope flared in Viktor's chest because he knew that meant Yuuri was considering the possibilities. "I...you..." he cut himself off, frustrated. "A twenty-three year old skater who wasn't even in the junior division popping out of nowhere? Are you crazy?"  
  
"It's happened before."  
  
"Viktor, no. This is insane. I have crippling anxiety and stage fright--"  
  
"Most skaters do, starting out."  
  
"--and I have students here, studies here, friends--"  
  
"None of which you'd have to leave forever."  
  
"I don't have money--"  
  
"I have enough."  
  
"Costumes--"  
  
"We'll get you some."  
  
"Viktor, stop interrupting! I don't even have a coach!"  
  
Viktor’s thumbs stilled from where they were rubbing encouraging circles on the back of Yuuri’s hands. The idea that sprung into Viktor's mind in that split second was pure insanity, but an idea he knew he wouldn't regret.  
  
"Yuuri," Viktor breathed, squeezing his hands and beaming, " _I_ could be--"  
  
"Stop! Stop, Viktor, stop!" Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face into clenched fists. Viktor let in a small intake of breath as he realized Yuuri was trembling.  
  
He inwardly cursed himself. He didn't mean to overwhelm the skater, but he couldn't help the spurts of passion. He'd come to care deeply for Yuuri, and couldn't stand watching the man be his own and only barrier from success beyond his wildest dreams. Viktor bit his lip, willing himself to focus his thoughts elsewhere.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. It's just…” Yuuri let out an anguished sound. “Thinking about my future gives me a lot of anxiety. I thought I'd finally figured everything out, and now I don't even know if...i-if…” He gave up and slumped over, dejected. “Can we please talk about something else?”

Viktor wasn't discouraged. He’d thrown a lot on the man, and Viktor knew his enthusiasm could be unbearably consuming when he was excited. There was still time, plenty of time, to show Yuuri that a future of professional figure skating was a completely realistic goal.

Viktor would work on him. But for now…

He reached over Yuuri’s hunched figure and plucked up a framed photograph from his nightstand. “This is a really nice picture of you and Phichit. Where was it taken?”

Yuuri looked immensely relieved at the change of subject, and gave Viktor a grateful, though apologetic, look. “This was taken in Thailand, his home country. I saved up for years to surprise him for his birthday.” A little smile broke the dejected expression on his face. “It was an awesome weekend. In this picture we had just finished swimming, and Phichit ambushed me with selfies. He wanted me to change into a matching pair of hamster print swim shorts, but from the picture, you can imagine how that went down.” He let out a small, huffing laugh.

Viktor grinned. “It’s too bad I wasn't there. I would have posed with him in my poodle print ones.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Would you be wearing the matching oven mitts and apron, too?”

“Only if he asked nicely.”

Yuuri laughed then, pure and undulated. “Can’t decide if you and Phichit-Kuhn would love or hate one another. You two could make great friends, but also get in battles over which one of you could be more extra.”

Viktor crossed his arms. “A battle I would win, obviously.”

Yuuri smirked. “Phichit would use a selfie-stick as a weapon. Think you can match that?”

“He wouldn't be able to attack me with a selfie-stick if I ran him over with my pink convertible first.” Yuuri giggled at Viktor’s declaration, and then seemed to notice the serious expression on Viktor’s face. His quiet chuckles ceased, and he stared at Viktor in disbelief.

“...No way.”

Viktor raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“A...a _pink convertible_? Nice try, Viktor, but not even someone as extra as _you_ would spend money on that.” Yuuri laughed again, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Viktor simply plucked his phone out of his pocket and tapped the home button, never breaking eye contact with the skater as his screen was displayed. It was a picture of Viktor and Makkachin in his car back at St. Petersburg, the image casting an obnoxiously bright pink glow on Yuuri’s face.

After a few moments of wide-eyed gawking, Yuuri’s face morphed from disbelief to amusement. He barked out a shocked laugh, covering his mouth with his hands as he stifled laughter.

“Do you have a problem with my car, Yuuri?”

Yuuri let out another cute snort which he immediately attempted to disguise as a cough. “Sorry, I just…” He bit his lip. “Do you have the matching _Barbie Dream House_ too?”

Yuuri burst into laughter the same time Viktor dropped his phone, the device getting lost in the fluffy comforter _._ Yuuri was doubled over, rapidly losing breath as he guffawed.

“Can’t...believe you...b-bought…”

“It was a gift, actually.” Viktor corrected, not offended in the slightest by Yuuri’s laughter. Viktor was used to this response when people beheld his car, but he never felt humiliated. He knew the jabs at his car weren’t serious ones, because there wasn’t a single instance when the person teasing didn’t ask for a ride two seconds later.

“A gift.” Yuuri repeated, smiling. “And who bestowed upon you the honor of owning such a frivolous vehicle?”

“Yakov. I was sixteen, and he was tired of going back and forth between driving my little brother and I to the rink.”

“So he bought you a pink convertible? _”_

 _“_ He’s not exactly poor, Yuuri.”

“I know that, but...Yakov? Intense, ruthless, world-champion figure skating coach _Yakov_ bought you a _pink convertible?_ Wow, I must have really misjudged his character.” Yuuri’s eyes slid shut as he laughed again.

“Well...he didn’t exactly choose the car. It’s a really funny story, actually.” Viktor smirked, the image of his livid coach’s expression at sixteen year old Viktor driving to the rink in his new car fresh in his mind. “The car Yakov originally chose for me was white, but the dealership made a mistake and had him sign the papers for the exact same car, but in pink. I was ecstatic when the dealer handed me the keys. The first thing I did was drive to the rink for practice, trying not to jump up and down in the seat in excitement. You should have seen Yakov’s face when I leaped out of the car and tackled him in a hug. The poor man, his plans regarding his most cherished skater always seem to backfire.” Viktor joined Yuuri’s laughter then. “He despised the pink car with a burning passion, _still_ despises it, but back then, he didn’t have the heart to take it away from me.”

“Wow.” Yuuri smiled. “He must be really close to your family. I know my old skating coach wouldn’t have bought me a car to get to practice.”

“He is.” Viktor said a little wistfully. As much as he was enjoying his time in Hassetsu, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling he got whenever he thought of his skating family back home. He’d left his brother, his skating, another life, far behind.

 _You can still go back._ A determined little voice in Viktor’s head reminded him. _You_ will _go back._

He imagined his little apartment back in St. Petersburg full of laughter and the sound of Yuuri’s melodic voice, so unlike the cold, barren silence he’d come to know. He imagined watching Yuuri skate, imagined the man’s beaming smile and warm embrace after a performance that put the world in awe. He imagined life and love, two things completely foreign to him, until Katsuki Yuuri had waltzed into his life and made Viktor’s life a life worth _living_.

 _But this time,_ Viktor thought, his gaze growing soft as he watched Yuuri smile, _I’ll have my inspiration back._

  
  
_And it will never leave me again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Viktor, you're hopeless.
> 
> (also I haven't read ONE FIC where the pink convertible from the official art was mentioned and I wanted to be the first okay)
> 
> Thank you again for waiting, I hope it was worth it!! Once my finals week and school musical is over within this month, you can be expecting much more regular updates. Thank you for sticking with me!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, yes I am still alive, I am so sorry for the update wait. Life has hit me like a freight train, but let me tell you, there hasn't been a day that I haven't wanted to escape my crazy life and write more for all of you beautiful, supportive people. But never mind that, I have some good news!!
> 
> I have a set day of the release for chapter 9!!! Chapter 9 will be posted on April 14, no later, so you all won't have to go through another update gap. This chapter was originally 8k because of all of the tooth-rotting fluff I planned out, so I had to split it into two chapters!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me thus far, your kind words have never failed to make me feel happy, even on my worst days. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!!!

 

It was seldom that Yuuri allowed himself to shut his eyes, allowed himself to be closed off from the world.

He only did it when his mind was completely at ease, when he allowed the soft calm of meditation to dull the constant throb of thoughts that pounded through his anxious head every moment of every day. Only here, in the familiar calm of the serene waterfall, in Yuuri’s private little safehaven within the backcountry of Hasetsu.

Yuuri exhaled an even breath across his folded hands, his palms lining up and pressing gently against one another. His heart beat steadily, soft claps of thunder following the intensity of a raging storm. The gentle rolling of water droplets down his closed eyelashes was an unfamiliar sensation, considering that fear usually drove him to shower with his eyes open, but not an unwelcome one. It was pleasant, placating in a way. It encouraged Yuuri to trust his surroundings, to succumb to the comfort and protection that nature provided.

Yuuri couldn’t hear the booming roar of the waterfall, but he felt the vibrations all the same. He melted into the powerful rumble of water pouring over rough rocks and ridges, sighed as the renewing breeze kissed his face. The water was far too cold for most people this time of year, but Yuuri’s psychiatrist had recommended cold showers to ease anxiety. Yuuri strongly disliked cold weather, but cold waterfalls were an oddly specific exception. The water was nothing but pure bliss, enough to calm the raging storm of even _Yuuri’s_ relentless anxiety.

A simple white robe clung to his body, but Yuuri found he yearned for more of his skin to be exposed to the rejuvenating sensation of the water. He untied the front, tilting his face back up into the stream.

Yuuri wondered how different his life would be if he allowed himself to be this relaxed all the time. What would his life be like without the constant tension in his shoulders, without the doubt that dug its claws into his mind whenever he opened his mouth to speak?

Yuuri wanted so badly to let go. He wanted the insecurities to pour out of his body like the waterfall against the rocks, spreading into a river and then into the sea to be lost forever. Viktor had unknowingly helped tremendously with Yuuri’s insecurities by caring for him, by accepting Yuuri for his every quirk and flaw, but Yuuri knew deep inside that the cold hands would never truly fade forever. Even in his victories they would dance across the back of his neck, caressing his cheek sweetly as a sinister voice in his head whispered he would never be enough.

But the funny thing was, Yuuri was beginning to become okay with that. His anxiety was valid and real, but he could live a perfectly happy and fulfilled life if he acknowledged it and managed it.

It was the reason he had retreated to his safehaven, far from his family and friends, far from Viktor. This whole week Yuuri had been on top of the world, elatedly releasing all the words he had been so desperate to speak to the world, until his fears had slowly regained their firm clench on his thoughts. It had happened uninvitedly and completely unexpected, had pounced on him when he was with Viktor in the Yutopia the previous day.

Even though it was unintentional and unbeknownst to Viktor, the older man had triggered Yuuri’s crippling anxiety by bringing up the topic of Yuuri’s future. Viktor had poured gasoline on the already raging flames when he suggested changing that steady future, to throw everything Yuuri had worked for to the wind to skate competitively.

_I admire how you want to make other children’s dreams a reality, but you have time to do that later in life! Why not make your dream a reality now?_

Yuuri bit his lip and squeezed his eyes painfully. He found that his palms were no longer leaning gently against one another, but were now trembling with the pressure of being smashed tightly together. He knew Viktor was spontaneous and optimistic, but he couldn’t throw such ideas on Yuuri so lightly, as if they were actually possible.

Yuuri knew he was on borrowed time. He had always known, had known that Viktor would return to his frivolous life of skating and leave Yuuri right where he belonged, here in Hasetsu, destined for a quiet life. Yuuri had been reminding himself of this fact for weeks, had been begging his heart not to get too attached, to not break into pieces when the time for Viktor to return to Russia finally came.

 _How could he say things like that?_ Yuuri thought brokenly, suddenly angry. _Why would he torture me by raising my hopes so high?_

Yuuri knew his bitterness was irrational and unfair to Viktor, but he couldn’t help himself. The older man had no idea how much Yuuri took things to heart, how much vocalizing an impossible dream would affect him. Yuuri knew Viktor was probably only making conversation, but…

He wrung his fingers. _But would Viktor say something like that if he truly didn’t think it were possible?_

Yuuri indulged for a moment, let himself imagine it. He thought of a life that could never come true, a life close to Viktor’s side. He imagined skating at a Grand Prix on the same ice as Viktor, imagined days of skating and life and laughter and nights of warm embraces. He pictured a life that was a perfect balance of domesticity and thrill, of life and love.

A little smile worked its way onto Yuuri’s lips, but he forced his gaze to the ground. It was normal for a person to dream, but was this really healthy? Was it beneficial to Yuuri’s anxiety to think of the unknown, to idealize an aspect of his life over which he had no control?

Thinking about a future with Viktor could only be harmful at that point. Instead, Yuuri pictured the stable, calm life he’d built in his head time after time, willing his heart to return to a normal pace.

He pictured early mornings on the freshly smoothed ice, quiet time he’d have to himself before his students arrived. He imagined watching little eyes lighting up adorably as they took in the rink, as Yuuri assured them that they could make their dreams a reality. His days would be full of laughter (children always made him smile), and he would get all of the happiness he needed by watching his students succeed.

He would instill in them the confidence and courage to let their voices be heard, just as Viktor had done for Yuuri.

He would buy an apartment close to his family after proudly earning enough money to support himself. He’d get another dog, one in memory of Vicchan, and maybe even a cat. He’d have shelves full of his favorite books, cabinets filled with cooking utensils to make his favorite foods, and a spare bedroom for when Phichit came to visit. Yuuri will have finally accomplished something, will finally have something he’s proud of that he did all on his own.

He’d earned medals and awards from local skating events, and that was enough. He’d pictured a future for himself that was happy before Viktor had entered his life, and didn’t need Viktor for a happy future. He could build one on his own.

Yuuri waited for the familiar rush of reassurance and happiness he felt whenever he pictured the reasonable, achievable future. He had been building up this vision for years, slowly putting the pieces together of how he wanted his life to turn out. Reassurance and happiness _always_ came with the familiar picture, so he waited.

It didn’t come.

Yuuri frowned and buried himself deeper into his thoughts. How could his emotions suddenly become un-invested in something he’d dreamed of for years?

For some reason, it was his sister’s words that gave him his answer in that moment. Yuuri recalled what Mari had signed to him the previous day in the family Yutopia, Viktor completely oblivious to the subject of their silent conversation.

 _It’s so wonderful to see you look alive again, Yuuri._ She’d gestured. _Everyone, including Viktor, loves seeing you look like this. I’m so happy you’ve finally been instilled with the confidence you needed to show the world what an incredible person you are._

Yuuri had turned an embarrassing shade of red and had denied profusely that _no,_ it wasn’t Viktor who had caused him to suddenly open up like a book. The refusal was a lie of course, but Yuuri was desperate, was _still_ desperate, to convince himself that he could still live happily and confidently once Viktor’s light left his life for good.

The answer to Yuuri’s self-inquiry was obvious. Yuuri was no longer happy with his little picture because _Viktor_ was not in it.

He wanted the confidence and self-assurance to stay in his life and in his own image of himself. He wanted to be a person worthy of Viktor’s love, a person worthy of being a part of Viktor’s life, no matter how long the duration of time was. Yuuri didn’t want to think of how much time he had left, didn’t want stress to consume him while he still had Viktor by his side. It was pointless to dwell on something he had no control of, so why not just enjoy the time he had with Viktor _now?_

He couldn’t predict the future, and more than that, he couldn’t predict Viktor. With Viktor’s spontaneity, he could be planning to quit skating and take up underwater basket-weaving, for all Yuuri knew. What was the point of Yuuri wondering, of letting one of Viktor’s many, whimsical rambling fits be the serious subject of so many of Yuuri’s worries?

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, but eventually Yuuri sank back into his meditative state, his breaths evening and his fingers stilling from their trembling.

His thoughts were far from organized, but he couldn’t let one possibility break him. Had he truly invested so much energy and emotion into a single person that he’d become completely blind to the consequences of doing so?

Yuuri let out a weak laugh. “What am I doing?” He should be making the most of his time with Viktor, not moping all by himself.

Yuuri stepped out of the stream of the water towards land, drying his soaking body with a towel he’d brought. He’d invited Viktor to his secluded little spot, but had wanted some alone time to think and reflect before the older man arrived. Yuuri hoped that the skater would appreciate one of the most breathtaking locations in Hasetsu.

The forest was small and secluded, a charming section of Hasetsu’s scenic trail system. His little hometown didn’t have much for attractions, but there was an area of beautiful woodland that wasn’t far from his family’s onsen. It was Yuuri’s safe-haven when even the comfort of his home was too much.

The mid-afternoon light softened the green of the trees with a golden glow, the light filtering in reflecting on the stream of the waterfall. The view was breathtaking, a view that Yuuri had selfishly adopted as his sanctuary and kept to himself for years.

It was incredible, really, that in the short amount of time Viktor was here he was able to break down Yuuri’s walls to the point where Yuuri entrusted him with such an important part of his life. He’d never taken anyone else to this location, had only used this place as an escape. The site was lonely and rarely visited, and Yuuri could hardly believe he was openly inviting Viktor into his haven. There was no place Yuuri could run now, nowhere he could hide.

To his surprise, the thought didn't trouble him as much as it should have.

As he changed into dry clothes, a ping from his phone caused him to jump. Yuuri hastily unlocked his phone and read that the text was from Viktor, the very subject of his thoughts.

 

**_I’m on my way!_ **

 

Yuuri flushed, hoping Viktor wasn’t getting the wrong idea by Yuuri inviting him into a secluded section of forest where they wouldn’t be interrupted. He’d invited Viktor on a whim, but there was also something Yuuri had been working on and wanting to give him. He’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and the cheesy part of Yuuri’s heart couldn’t help but scream that a romantic waterfall would be the perfect place.

One of the biggest honors that a deaf person could bestow on someone who wasn’t in the deaf community was giving them a name. A signed name, a gesture that was heartfelt and personalized to the person who was receiving the name. The gesture could relate to the person’s appearance or personality, and was often a representation of a unique trait that the person being named possessed.

Mari’s, for example, was the simple act of tracing the outside of the ear. Yuuri’s idea for her name surfaced back in elementary school, when he noticed that Mari always tucked her hair behind her ears before she started wearing a headband. She couldn’t stand it in her face, and still sometimes reached up to tuck it back as a nervous tick.

His mother’s was two taps on each cheek, because her cheeks always created dimples when she smiled. His father’s was tracing the right eyebrow with the pointer finger, because he’d always wiggle it up and down to make Yuuri laugh as a child. Minako’s was two twirls of the finger to symbolize a ballet turn, but sometimes he signed her name by making a pig nose just to annoy her. Phichit’s was a silly jazz hand, a signature move in _The King and the Skater_ that was the topic of many of their inside jokes. Every name he had given was personal and crafted with careful thought, Viktor’s perhaps the most of all.

With great tenderness, Yuuri lifted his hand to his face and practiced the gesture he had made in the mirror a million times.

It began with his pointer finger poised just above his top lip, the entire gesture taking place about an inch from his face. From his top lip he traced a gentle half-heart, one that curved to the middle of his cheek, descended down the outline of his jaw, and apexed at the bottom of Yuuri’s chin.

The inspiration for the name was Viktor’s beautiful smile, the smile that lit up his entire face and uniquely resembled the shape of a heart. Yuuri had never seen a smile quite like it; it was a charm Viktor alone possessed, therefore making it perfect for his personalized gesture. It was a sign that represented him and him only, a sign that displayed the affection, joy, and quirkiness in Viktor’s character.

Yuuri found the name to be quite lovely, and hoped Viktor thought so too.

Yuuri didn't have to wait long before he felt the telltale vibrations that indicated someone was approaching behind him. The stomps were harder than usual, and Yuuri appreciated the obvious effort Viktor was putting in to let Yuuri know someone was there. Yuuri turned around and smiled at Viktor, instinctively signing a polite hello.

To Yuuri’s surprised delight, Viktor raised his arms and signed a greeting back. Yuuri had lazily shown Viktor a few greetings and farewells on an afternoon a while back, but had never thought Viktor would actually _remember_ them. Yuuri was flattered, and felt butterflies flutter at the base of his stomach.

Viktor beamed. “From your facial expression, I’m supposing I got it right?” He kicked a rock aside as he made his way towards Yuuri, faded red shirt grazing up slightly as he made his way around the inclinations.

Yuuri returned the grin and met him halfway. “Yes. Your motions were stellar. How was the hot spring?”

“Cold, without you.” Viktor pouted, causing Yuuri to roll his eyes.

“I set up some tea in the gazebo over there. It should still be hot. Want to drink?”

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, the pair were sipping away at their drinks, Viktor’s head swiveling as he took in the beautiful forest around them. There was a little smile on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” Yuuri inquired curiously.

Viktor jumped slightly, causing his tea to splash. Yuuri had never seen the great Viktor Nikiforov caught so off guard before, and the sight made him laugh.

Viktor smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I really love nature, and this forest reminds me of a place I used to visit all the time in St. Petersburg. In the backcountry of the city, there’s a section of woods a lot like this one with a small lake. Even though it was stupid of me, I used to skate on it during the winter all the time.” His eyes were fond as he recalled the memory, and Yuuri suddenly found it difficult to meet the other man’s eyes.

“Do you miss Russia?” Yuuri tried to sound nonchalant with his words, tracing a decorative pattern on the side of his teacup with a fingernail.

Viktor was silent for a moment. His eyes went from fond to pensive, and they roamed from the woods, to his teacup, to Yuuri’s face, until finally their eyes met. Turquoise eyes bored into Yuuri’s brown ones.

“Sometimes.” Viktor’s expression was unreadable.

Yuuri bit his lip, unsure of what to say next.

Viktor’s eyes followed the movement, and finally he smiled, breaking the tense moment. “Oh, I almost forgot! Yuuri, I have something for you.”

Yuuri straightened and drained the last of his tea. “What is it?”

Viktor wiggled in his seat as he reached into his pocket, a large heart-shaped smile draining any of the remaining tension in the air. He pulled out two slips of paper, and shoved them excitedly into Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri squinted. “These are...tickets.”

Viktor nodded earnestly.

“Yokohama, Japan...ISU...ISU!” Yuuri gasped in disbelief, eyes widening, and took the pieces of paper from Viktor’s grasp as if they were delicate pieces of glass. “T-These are tickets to the Junior Grand Prix!”

“Yes!” Viktor exclaimed. His fringe of hair bounced with the enthusiastic movements of his arms. “My brother is making his last performance as a junior here in Japan, and…” Viktor shifted, suddenly looking uncertain. “You...You’ll come with me, right? Do you want to?”

“Want to?!” Yuuri barely refrained from knocking the table between them over, making his way around so he could fling himself into the older man’s arms. He was barely cognizant of his highly inappropriate actions, but joy was causing him to think irrationally. A laugh bubbled up his throat. “I would love to! Why in the world wouldn’t I?”

Viktor looked a little out of breath, cheeks flushed as his arms wound around Yuuri’s middle. He gave a little squeeze and said, “Well, I’m going to be bombarded with a lot of attention, disappearing for months and suddenly coming back and all. I almost considered not going because I didn’t want to take attention away from my brother, and I know you aren’t fond of crowds, but...I just _had to_ ask. I understand if the proposal is too overwhelming, especially because of how huge the event will be this year. That’s due to my brother Yuri of course, since he hasn’t been very subtle in his rankings.” Something like pride shone in Viktor’s eyes at his last sentence, and Yuuri smiled.

He pulled away, just enough to give his arms room for movement. _You’re right, it is overwhelming, but not because of the event. I’m overwhelmed because of how much I adore you. I don’t think there will be a happier moment in my life, watching performances of my life passion with the man who inspired me the most at my side. I’m the luckiest man in the world._

Viktor smiled a bit, his head cocking to the side. “What did that mean?”

“It means I’d love to.” Yuuri said simply, his eyes glistening.

Viktor tsked. “Y _uu_ ri, that was a nice try, but I know enough sign language to assume that was more than a single sentence.” He poked Yuuri’s chest teasingly, but his voice was curious.

Yuuri’s arms fell into his lap like weights as he processed Viktor’s words.

“You...you’re learning sign language?”

 

 _Of course._ The movements were sloppy, but caused tears to well in Yuuri’s eyes. _You are inspiring._

 

It was that moment when all doubts and hesitations drained out of Yuuri’s body.

In the short amount of time he’d been here, Viktor had been learning sign language, for _him._ Viktor Nikiforov, legend and celebrity, was taking time out of his life to learn sign language for simple, unremarkable Yuuri. The fact alone was enough to make Yuuri’s heart climb into his throat, was enough to shake the foundations of his entire world. Viktor was doing what no one outside of his family had done; was learning to accommodate _him,_ make _him_ comfortable, instead of the other way around. There wasn’t a single person in Yuuri's world more worthy of receiving the honorable gift Yuuri had created.

Yuuri’s silence had caused Viktor to bite his lip in worry. “Yuuri?”

Fear and self-consciousness made Yuuri anxious for what he was about to do, so he tuned in to the soothing vibrations of the waterfall. He could do this. He gripped Viktor’s hands and whispered, “I have something for you, too.”

Viktor’s beauty stole the air from Yuuri’s lungs. He was flushed and curious, the corners of his lips tilted upwards, turquoise eyes shining with wonder under the soft light of the forest. He waited, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on Yuuri’s palm.

“I-in the deaf community--” Yuuri swallowed. “There is no greater honor to bestow upon someone than naming them. Names are very seldom given to people of hearing. The deaf only do it for people we care about deeply, someone who has earned our unwavering trust and devotion. A sign name is a gesture that represents the person being named, a unique little motion that is put together by noting the individualistic qualities and habits of the person.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, lips parting in shock.

“I know I haven’t been in your presence for very long, but I feel as if I’ve known you my entire life. I laugh with you, I’m comfortable with you, I _talk_ to you. I’ve admired your skating for years, decades even, and I’d never taken time to consider that maybe the skater’s heart was even more delicate and stunning than the routines he shares with the world. Your heart is so kind, Viktor, so eager to love. There has been no greater joy in my life than you sharing your time with me, however brief that time has been. I would be honored if you accepted this name from me.”

Viktor remained silent, but a warm breath fanned across Yuuri’s face as Viktor exhaled.

“Viktor Nikiforov.” Yuuri whispered. “Figure skater. Inspirer. Lover of all.”

With a trembling finger, Yuuri raised his finger to his lips and gestured the name he had practiced a million times, the name that had become as familiar as his own. _Viktor._

Tears were streaming down Viktor’s cheeks, shining rivers glistening upon each sides of his face. “It’s...it’s a heart.” His voice broke. “I-it means love?”

“No, it means Viktor.” Yuuri stroked a thumb across Viktor’s damp cheek. The older man leaned into the touch, his fingers reaching up to gently rub circles into Yuuri's wrist.

 

Yuuri returned Viktor's watery smile and then murmured lovingly, “But I suppose the two are about the same thing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of part 1 of the waterfall date!!
> 
> Once again, chapter 9 will be posted on April 14!! It will include some swimming and really heartfelt moments, and I can't WAIT to share it with you all.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed, please let me know your thoughts! Till next week my friends, thanks again for reading!!! :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I'm so excited to release part 2 of the waterfall date!! 
> 
> I wanted to let you all know that the reason this chapter had a set update day was because I wanted to give you guys as much content as possible before my schedule starts getting even more crazy. I can't guarantee that the next chapter will be up in a week, but I CAN guarantee that this chapter is full of fluff and happy moments!! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback that the last chapter received. You all are so sweet, writing this fic and reading your encouraging messages are the ultimate silver lining in my currently hectic life. I hope part 2 of the waterfall date is to everyone's liking, thank you again!!!
> 
> My tumblr: @ofskatesandwatercolor

 

Yuuri and Viktor’s blissful afternoon continued with Viktor draped haphazardly over a boulder, dazedly tracing his new name on his lips over and over again.

 

Though Yuuri knew to others it appeared as if Viktor was simply brushing his lip, Yuuri’s disability had caused his mind to wire itself over the years to immediately connect gestures with words. Viktor was doing the equivalent of repeating his name over and over and over again, and even though the sight was endearing, it was also slightly annoying.

 

Even as he rolled his eyes in exasperation, Yuuri tried not to snort in amusement. _Viktor. Viktor. Viktor._

 

The older man paused to let out a happy sigh. “If my name is one half of a heart, can your name be the other?”

 

Yuuri laughed despite the intimacy of his words. “I already have a name. Plus, I don’t have a heart-shaped smile.”

 

Viktor sat up on his boulder to look into Yuuri’s eyes, blinking owlishly. As if coming to a revelation, he touched his lips and wondered aloud, “I have a heart-shaped smile?”

 

“You do.” Yuuri nodded, chuckling. He sat himself across from Viktor on the boulder, the tiny crystals of granite imbedded making the rock sparkle in the sun.“A smile that is unique to you only and impossible to miss. Your smile is very different, and is distinct enough to be an excellent symbol for a sign name. It’s beautiful.”

 

A million different emotions flashed across Viktor’s face at once. “I guess I...I’ve never had someone in my life before that knew me enough to notice that.” He furrowed his brow pensively, but there was something in his eyes that Yuuri couldn’t quite decipher as his gaze roamed the younger man’s face.

 

“Well, now people won’t be able to _not_ notice.” Yuuri smiled.

 

Viktor was silent for a moment, his eyes clouded with that same emotion that Yuuri found to be unreadable. “Thank you, Yuuri. This is…” He paused, audibly swallowing. “This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received. I mean that sincerely. I would be honored to take the name.” He leaned up to meet Yuuri from where the younger man was standing in front of him, and brushed a kiss against Yuuri’s cheek.

 

Yuuri flushed, but a little smile broke across his face.

 

Viktor sighed, poking a dimple in Yuuri’s cheek. “Your smile is nice, too. Does your sign name have to do with your smile?”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened, his flush deepening as he recalled the embarrassing reality of what his signed name truly represented. He turned from Viktor, promptly breaking the tender moment. “No.”

 

Seeing Yuuri’s embarrassment piqued Viktor’s interest, the cruel man, and he straightened. “Yuuri, what’s your sign name? I want to know your name.”

 

“Never.” Yuuri deadpanned.

 

“ _Yuuuuuriiii…”_ Viktor jutted out his bottom lip and clasped his hands together. “Pleease?”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Isn’t one new name enough for today?”

 

The older man shook his head.

 

“Maybe some other time.”

 

Viktor huffed. “Fine. I’m not worried, I’ll work it out of you eventually.” He was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Finally he licked his lips and said smoothly, “If you won’t grant me the pleasure of learning your name, will you at least tell me your _family’s_ names?” His expression was coy.

 

Yuuri smirked. “Nice try, but my family’s individual names have no correlation with mine. You could know the name of every Katsuki in Japan and it still wouldn’t give you any hints to what mine is. Like I said, sign names are unique and pertain to your individual qualities only.”

 

Viktor pouted, defeated. After a moment of grumbling about Yuuri’s stubbornness, he took the bait of conversation and inquired curiously, “So what if you have the same sign name as someone else? Or what if the name you want to give someone is already a word that exists in sign language?”

 

Yuuri hummed. “Two people sharing the same name doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally there will be a name that looks very similar to a word in sign language. For example, my sister Mari’s name looks like this...”

 

Yuuri demonstrated by gently tracing the outside of his ear, Viktor watching with rapt attention.

 

“...which also means ‘ear’ in some certain deviations of sign language. But it's the way you execute the gesture that makes it unique. Because Mari’s name is gestured by using all four fingers to trace the outside of the ear instead of just one, the gesture changes meaning from _ear_ to _Mari.”_

 

Viktor stared blankly.

 

Yuuri sighed exasperatedly. “Never mind.” He let out a chuckle, which snapped Viktor out of his daze.

 

“No! I’m interested Yuuri, I heard every word! I’m just…” He wrung his fingers together. “Your voice started to do that slur thing again and it's making me…its, um...its making me a little flustered.” He admitted honestly, avoiding Yuuri’s gaze.

 

Yuuri smirked and made sure there was an extra lilt to his words as he slyly divulged, “There’s a freezing waterfall over there. Why don’t you go cool off in it?”

 

Viktor’s eyes widened comically at the words, and Yuuri decided that red was an excellent color on him. He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart, Yuuri savoring the moment that he made _Viktor Nikiforov,_ the most decorated male figure skater in history, _flustered_.

 

“You’re such a tease.” Viktor breathed.

 

Yuuri hummed and said sweetly, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea, it's a beautiful day, after all. If you go jump into that freezing waterfall with me, I’ll show you my name.” He crossed his arms smugly, knowing he’d already reigned champion from the start. Yuuri was used to the chill temperature of the waterfall from visiting it so frequently, but an outsider stood no chance.

 

Viktor crossed his arms and made a _psh_ sound, his cheeks still blazing rosily. “That’s all I have to do? It’s much colder in Russia, I can handle it.” He remarked poshly, and then shot Yuuri a sly look. “Unless _you_ don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Instead of pointing out that Yuuri had been the one to make the suggestion that they swim in the first place, Yuuri simply stood. Viktor burst into laughter as Yuuri stripped his shirt off, then shucked his pants off his legs without hesitation. He began his determined walk towards the rushing waterfall, but was stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around his wrist.

 

Yuuri turned and faced Viktor’s mirth-filled expression, smile alight with laughter. For a moment he thought his knees would give out at the sight, but then Viktor ruined the image by placing an annoying poke on Yuuri’s nose. “As alluring as the sight of you almost naked is, I’m sorrowful to admit that I thought this was one of our playful banter sessions and I was just playing along. I’d never go into that freezing water, even if you begged me.”

 

Yuuri ripped his hand free`of Viktor’s grasp to cock it on his hip. This time it was Yuuri’s turn to croon, “Oh really? I thought Russians could handle this sort of thing, since it's _so_ much colder in Russia. But if you were an exception, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Viktor balked, but he still didn’t appear to have processed that Yuuri was serious about swimming. He laughed. “You’re beautiful _and_ crazy, solnyshko. I’m not swimming.”

 

Yuuri shrugged. “Guess you’ll never know my signed name.” He turned and walked towards the edge of the water, leaving Viktor to groan in mock agony behind him.

 

It took him a minute or so to safely navigate the slippery surface of the smooth freshwater stones, but was also stalling to give Viktor time to join him. Yuuri knew he would cave, it was only a matter of time.

 

Soon enough, Yuuri felt hands grasping his sides. He peeked over a shoulder, and almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of an almost naked Viktor Nikiforov staring disdainfully at the pool of water at their feet.

 

Viktor’s eyes trailed upwards towards the apex of the waterfall, and Yuuri understood why his eyes softened.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Yuuri mused, trying to ignore how Viktor’s hands seemingly had a mind of their own. They traced gentle patterns against his skin, swirls and spirals as he took in the breathtaking view before him.

 

Viktor nodded in awe. The sun shining through the canopy of trees caused patterns to shift across Viktor’s chiseled face, the rays of light highlighting his fair complexion luminously. Yuuri’s breath hitched as he realized just how stunning Viktor was, how lucky of a man Yuuri was to be able to admire the older skater in such a vulnerable state. Yuuri wondered if anyone else had seen Viktor so unguarded like this, with his turquoise eyes shining in awe at the magnificence only nature could create.

 

Viktor turned his head, and then those expressionate eyes were fixed on Yuuri’s face. Though his expression was fond, the reality of whose eyes exactly were boring into Yuuri’s was enough to send the younger skater into the ground.

 

Yuuri turned his head, willing himself into confidence. Viktor wasn’t going to intimidate him in his favorite spot in the whole world.

 

“Are you going to swim with me, or will I have to find a Russian who’s _not_ petrified of the cold?”

 

While Viktor spluttered for an equally snarky response, Yuuri arched his arms and plunged into the water.

 

For the first few moments, the water felt like millions of needles piercing his skin, but he had done this a million times for therapeutic reasons. He was used to the bite of the cold, and it wasn’t long before his body adjusted. This was his haven, after all, and for once _he_ was the one who had leverage over _Viktor_ instead of the other way around. He planned to take full advantage of it.

 

It also helped that Viktor was now nothing but a blurry shape from where Yuuri was submerged to his nose in the water. Up close he could see fine, it was things that were five or more feet away from him when things got dicey. Yuuri purposefully paddled a good ten feet into the water, and then smiled cruelly at the skater skill on the banks. If Yuuri could clearly see him in nothing but his skin, to the fullest extent of his beauty, he’d probably sprint into the woods and never return, but for now he had the upper hand.

 

Yuuri smirked as Viktor adjusted his undershorts, the position of his body uncomfortable and awkward. “What’s the matter, Viktor? Are you still afraid of water?”

 

Yuuri couldn’t make out the shape of Viktor’s mouth, but he _could_ make out the distinct shape of Viktor’s arm swiping the water. Yuuri laughed as droplets of water rained across his already wet hair.

 

“You can’t stall forever.” Yuuri hummed, paddling leisurely under the waterfall stream, silently praying that whatever attractive energy pulsed between them would push Viktor forward.

 

 _Get in the water, old man._ Yuuri said with his eyes, willing them to gleam impishly. _Come play._

 

Apparently Viktor had endured enough teasing, because he finally acquiesced and waded a few feet into the water. Yuuri snorted as the shape of Viktor’s body seized up, his arms tightening at right angles from the impact of the immediate cold. Even Yuuri’s poor eyesight couldn’t mask the way Viktor threw his head back, and undoubtedly cried out in theatrical agony,

 

_“Yuuuuuuriiiiii!”_

 

Yuuri laughed and finally took pity on him, swimming over to Viktor’s stiff shape. As he neared, Viktor’s features began to sharpen, the outlines of his body becoming more distinct.

Yuuri flushed scarlet. _Oh._

 

Even hesitant and uncomfortable, Viktor was gorgeous. It wasn’t the first time Yuuri had seen Viktor almost naked (his family ran an onsen, after all) but the sight of him was still enough to make Yuuri flush with heat even in the freezing water. His years of skating professionally had given him a magnificent body, one that was currently glistening with ethereal beauty from the sheen of the water.

 

Yuuri realized that the entire time he was ogling Viktor’s body, the silver haired man’s lips had been moving.

 

“W-what?” Yuuri spluttered, lips half submerged in the water. His outburst had caused a small rush of water to flood past his lips, and he coughed and undoubtedly made extremely embarrassing squeaking noises.

 

Viktor, unfazed, crossed his arms. “I’m in the water, da?”

 

Yuuri focused on a tree over Viktor’s shoulder and shrugged in the water. “Yes, you’re in the water.”

 

“You said you’d show me your name if I came in. Also, you’re insane. How are you up to your nose without dying of cold?” His bottom lip was jutted out slightly, causing Yuuri to roll his eyes.

 

“It’s not that cold, you’re not going to die, and I said that I would show me your name if you _swam_ with me.”

 

Viktor flung up his arms and groaned. “I’m in the water, what’s the difference?! Did I need to bring goggles and flippers?! Would you like to see a backstroke or a butterfly--”

 

Yuuri threw his head back and laughed, grabbing Viktor’s hands. “What’s the difference between swimming and standing around like a stick in the mud?” He grinned devilishly, and Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll _show_ you the difference.” Yuuri dug his feet into the soft waterfall clay and tugged as hard as he could.

 

Viktor squawked, and soon the taller man was nothing but flailing arms and kicking limbs. Yuuri was laughing all the way through it, his arms knotted tightly around Viktor’s middle as he swam the two of them around.

 

“ _Psikh! Krasivaya prekrasnyy psikh!”_

 

“Relax, Viktor.” Yuuri chuckled. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, but it's going to get worse if you keep your body so tense.”

 

Yuuri distinctly felt the vibrations of Viktor’s responding grumble, but slowly each limb of his body began to succumb. Even though Yuuri was smaller, he was an excellent swimmer, and supported the two of them with Viktor’s back pressed to his front.

 

“Relax your legs.” Yuuri chided patiently.

 

Viktor did, and soon the two of them were floating along, Viktor’s arms entangled with Yuuri’s whose were wrapped snugly around the taller man’s middle. Viktor exhaled, and finally rested his head against Yuuri’s chest.

 

“This is nice.” He sighed.

 

“I told you.” Yuuri chuckled. “No one can resist the charm of this place.”

 

Viktor closed his eyes in response.

 

“When I was younger,” Yuuri began quietly, “I told my doctor that I thought she was crazy for suggesting cold water to ease anxiety. My family runs a hot spring, after all.” That earned a chuckle from Viktor, so Yuuri continued, “But I think I might like this place better than the onsen. The onsen has no vibrations. I can’t hear, of course, but the rumble from the waterfall is like a warm, grounding hug, despite the cold of the water.” Yuuri sighed and finally closed his eyes.

 

The world was black and silent, but the familiar soothing, booming rumble of the waterfall kept Yuuri far from distress. More than that, the man in his arms was a calming, steadying presence, his body relaxed and warm. Yuuri had never imagined that he’d be more content with another person out here than he’d be in solitude.

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long they’d been floating peacefully along, but when he opened his eyes again he found that their positions had switched. Viktor’s turquoise eyes were studying the pale planes of Yuuri’s face, pink lips quirked in a little smile.

 

“What is it?” Yuuri inquired, voice slightly thick from the minutes of disuse.

 

“I’ve never seen you so tranquil and calm. Your eyes were closed. I’ve never seen you do that, even in the hot spring. You’re...completely at ease.” Viktor looked slightly surprised, and Yuuri wondered if he was recalling the incident of when VIktor had taken Yuuri’s glasses. Yuuri had gone berserk with fear, and had admitted to Viktor how terrified closing his eyes made him feel.

 

“I trust you.” Yuuri countered simply, turning his head so that a cheek was pressed into Viktor’s chest. “I trust you completely.” To prove his point, Yuuri let his eyes slide shut once more.

 

Yuuri’s eyes were closed, but for the first time in his life, the world didn’t feel black or silent.

 

It felt _alive._ Pulsing and energetic and _alive_. Yuuri could feel Viktor’s skin sliding gently against his, could feel the mild, sweet smelling breeze that the rush of the waterfall provided. He could feel Viktor’s arms, arms that were solid and warm and strong, holding Yuuri snugly against his chest.

 

But most of all, Yuuri could feel the warmth that blossomed in his heart and was spreading throughout his entire body, warmth that could only come from certain affections that ran too deeply for verbal comprehension. The darkness, the silence, everything Yuuri couldn’t hear, was insignificant compared to everything Yuuri could _feel_.

 

After a few moments of basking in the comfort Viktor provided, Yuuri opened his eyes. He brushed a droplet of water off of Viktor’s cheek to get his attention, and then when he had the man’s full focus, breathed airily, “Katsuki Yuuri.”

 

Viktor’s mouth parted as Yuuri raised a hand to his own face. Yuuri’s sign name resembled a more sophisticated version of a child playing peekaboo, but with one hand covering one half of his face. He wasn’t yet ready to elaborate where exactly the name came from, but he could climb over his insecurities to grant Viktor this one request.

 

He raised his right hand and covered an eye, half of his nose, and half of his mouth, and then turned the hand open to reveal the hidden half of his face. He then delicately trailed the hand down the side, until it rested right atop his heart.

 

“Member of the Katsuki family. Teacher. Figure skater.”

 

Viktor’s eyes shone. “Yuuri.” He murmured, and then mimicked the motions on his own face. For some reason, the sight of it seemed overwhelmingly intimate, and made Yuuri blush a deep shade of pink.

 

“A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.” Viktor mused, and stroked a thumb across Yuuri’s cheek. Though they were floating in the water, Yuuri felt rooted to the spot under Viktor’s gaze. The sky could have been falling down, and Yuuri wouldn’t have moved a muscle.

 

 _There’s so much I’d like to tell you._ Yuuri thought to himself as his breathing became slightly more difficult. _I think I might be falling in love with you, but we’ve barely known one another for a month. How do I save myself from being hurt? Where do I draw the line?_

 

Viktor released Yuuri so they could face one another. Viktor, his eyes never leaving Yuuri’s, lifted his arms and signed, _Yuuri, can I kiss you?_

 

Yuuri was already winding his arms around Viktor’s neck. “Yes,” he choked out, and met Viktor halfway.

 

The other man cradled Yuuri’s face with both hands and leaned in, sighing as Yuuri’s lips touched his. As Yuuri’s fingers wove their way through Viktor’s silver hair, Yuuri shut his eyes.

 

The world wasn’t silent.

 

The world wasn’t dark.

 

The world was the ebb and flow of the water, the booming waterfall vibrations that shook their way up Yuuri’s toes and through his fingertips.

 

It was the bite of the cold water, the millions of icy needles that pierced and healed all at once, but it was not dark, or anxious, or silent.

 

It was warm and bright and _alive,_ as solid and real as the man in his embrace.

 

Viktor pulled away first, his white eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones. _“_ Y _uu_ ri.” His breath was warm and his lips were glistening. Yuuri focused all of his attention on Viktor’s lovely mouth, hoping to see it break into the beautiful heart-shaped smile he adored so much.

 

“I just wanted to know…” His lips quirked, and...there. It was curling into that familiar shape, the corners dimpling with delight, and--

 

“...If your name is a brush by your cheeks because it represents how chubby they are?”

 

Yuuri dunked him into the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Psikh! Psikh Krasivaya prekrasnyy!" : Crazy man! Beautiful, lovely, crazy man!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at @ofskatesandwatercolor ! As always, never hesitate to drop by and say hello!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I am so happy to be back. This isn't the longest chapter in the world and for that I apologize, but for the past month I have been traveling abroad for musical studies! This has been fun and enriching, but also frustrating because it has left me little to no time to write. This chapter may be a little rough since it has all been typed out on my phone between rehearsals and performances, but I still wanted to share it with you all. I cannot thank you all enough for the love and support, your words and kindness have helped me though a very difficult, confusing, stressful part of my life. Once I am home in a week I will have a lot more time to write and updates will be much more regular, I hope this chapter is worth the wait!!

**_The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched...they must be felt with the heart._ **

**_\- Helen Keller_ **

 

Viktor’s face was slack as he glided across the ice, dazed bliss masking his features into perfect, glowing marble as he traced his new name over his lips, over and over again. 

 

He wondered why incorporating sign language into a skate was an uncommon thing. Sign language had to be the most touching, personal language in the world, and in the language was a special potential to change lives of audiences forever. That was the point of performing, wasn’t it? It was all about the audience, the people paying money to watch?

 

For twenty long years, that had been what Viktor had thought. He’d worked himself into a vigor his entire life, always focused on ways to surprise the audiences, to make them explode with rapturous delight as he found new ways to shock them. But now, as he glided around in wide, swooping circles, pink dusting his cheeks in exertion, the audiences were the last subjects on his mind.

 

Why couldn’t he be more like Yuuri? Yuuri wasn’t strung on surprising people or impressing them. He skated for himself. He skated simply because of his love for the art, but it was somehow also more than that. The reason was deeper, more... meaningful. He skated for happiness. He skated for purpose, but he also skated for little girls like Aiko, young children who wanted and needed nothing more than an altruistic mentor like Yuuri to help them achieve their dreams.

 

Even though that alone was an incredible thing...Viktor couldn’t help but muse aloud, his skates scratching to a halt.

 

“What do you  _ really  _ want to achieve,  _ really  _ want to do, Yuuri? When is Yuuri going to start skating for  _ Yuuri?” _

 

A vibration and loud ring startled Viktor out of his pensive pondering, and he cursed viciously in his home language as he lost his balance. Grumbling, he dug into his pocket for his phone, wiping the delicate shavings of melting ice off of his legs. His foul mood, however, was short lived when he saw that his brother was the one calling.

 

“Yura!” He answered excitedly, and began another mindless lap around the rink, his stumble forgotten. “I am so happy you called! How are you, my sweet little kitten?”

 

A part of Viktor’s heart warmed as his brother’s familiar hissing scold sounded through the phone. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?!”

 

Viktor chuckled. “Force of habit I guess, since your caller ID is a kitten standing on its hind legs.”

 

Yuri paused. “The one with the red socks on its feet?”

 

“Yes, that one!”

 

Yuri grunted and muttered in a way that made Viktor assume he hadn't meant to say it out loud, “Beka sent me that video.” 

 

Viktor knew this was going to get his ass bitten off, but he crooned coyly, “ _ Ohhhh _ tabek? The talented skater who's not quite as cute as you but is twice as grumpy?”

 

Viktor held the phone away from his face to avoid the vicious snarls and strings of Russian curses, and broke into laughter. He’d forgotten how much he missed his baby brother.

 

“You're twenty seven fucking years old, Vitya, you're too much a geezer for this teasing bullshit!” His brother spat.

 

“I'll never be too old to tease my baby brother.” Viktor cooed happily. 

 

“Yeah, I'm your baby brother.” Yuri snorted humorlessly. “All that means is that you'll be in a coffin before me.”

 

“Such a heartless little kitten.”

 

“Viktor I swear--”

 

“Fine, fine.” Viktor waved a hand, chuckling. “I'm sorry. What's up?”

 

“I was wondering if you were planning on coming to the Junior Grand Prix Final.” He muttered grumpily, but the note of hope and curiosity underlying his voice made Viktor’s heart melt in his chest. 

 

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.” Viktor declared fondly, meaning every syllable. “It’s your last performance in the junior division! Besides, would I  _ ever  _ miss a performance in which my brother snags gold, even though it's practically every one?”

 

Yuri sniffed disdainfully. “You’re being too nice. What are you planning?” 

 

“Nothing, honestly.” A smile danced at Viktor’s lips as he leaned against the rink barrier. “I’m just genuinely happy to be talking to you. Life here is wonderful, but I can’t help but miss home.”

 

“Well then it's a good thing that you’re coming home after the Junior Grand Prix in a week.”

 

Viktor’s blood ran cold.

 

“..after all this time. Even though the rink is much more annoying with you here, I’m not going to have a gold-winning debut without you coaching me like you promised. Plus...some of the skaters here sort of miss you, I guess.”

 

Viktor took a shaky breath, and then closed his mouth again. He felt as if the rink’s temperature had dropped several degrees.

 

“Vitya?” Yuri’s voice inquired into the silence, and a snarl followed soon after. “Why are you so quiet? Did you forget you swore to return from your break after my last performance in the Junior division?!”

 

Viktor swallowed, and at his brother’s words, Viktor’s thoughts turned to messy black hair and blue-rimmed glasses. “I--”

 

“Viktor, you can’t keep delaying this! I’m tired of hearing you constantly lament about missing home, and then contradicting yourself by demanding that you are gone for a longer period of--”

 

“I met someone.”

 

Yuri was quiet for only a beat before he scoffed. “Yes, you met someone and told me about him, like, three weeks ago. This just proves how flighty you are, you’ve already met another person and are depending the entire delay of your return on one--”

 

“No, no. It’s the same person, Yura, the same person. I’m…” Viktor swallowed, his voice trembling as it dropped to a whisper. “I think I’m in love with him.” 

 

Silence.

 

Yuri was as quiet as death on the other end, silent long enough for Viktor’s heart beat to pick up in anxiety. “You’re in love.” His voice was dry, condescending.

 

“Yes.” Viktor whispered firmly, but a tremble in his voice betrayed him.

 

“No.” Yuri snorted right back, and a hoarse laugh ripped from the younger brother’s chest. “You are  _ not  _ in love. You’re dramatic and horny, just like all of the other times.”

 

“I am  _ not.”  _ Viktor snarled, his heartbeat beginning to shift from a completely different reason than anxiety. “You have no idea what this past month away has done for me, what  _ he  _ has done for me.”

 

“I may not, but I know  _ you  _ and I know that you’re a wishy-washy bachelor who has never looked for something serious in his entire life! Are you seriously about to fucking desert your family for a man you’ve known for barely a few  _ weeks _ ?!”

 

“I’m not deserting you, Yura.” Viktor began calmly, willing his heart to slow its rapid-fire pounding. Viktor knew he tended to let his emotions get ahold of him, and the last thing he wanted to do was say something he regretted out of anger or sorrow. “I’m deserting my unhappiness, my lack of life, the prison I’ve set up for myself over the course of an entire decade.”

 

“Ah, so the truth comes out.” His brother’s voice was sickeningly sweet. He crooned condescendingly, “Gold medalist, skating legend little Viktor, so hesitant to come home because actually doing something with his life and actually fucking  _ working _ to make a living, just like everyone else, is  _ prison.” _

 

_ “ _ That’s not what I meant and you know it, Yuri.” Viktor forced through his teeth.

 

“Unbelievable.” Yuri spat. “Fucking  _ unbelievable.  _ It’s been  _ months,  _ Viktor! Months! And at the end of each one, my stupid fucking older brother who can’t tell right from left always coos the same thing in that annoying voice of his: ‘Soon, Yura, soon! I miss you and Yakov and the skaters so much!’ If you missed us so much, you would stop being a selfish asshole! After all those empty promises of you saying you’d come home, I was an idiot to assume that you would uphold this one, simply because my performance is in Japan!”

 

Viktor’s free hand began to shake. “Yuri--”

 

“You may be an idiot, you may be forgetful and stupid and ridiculous, but you’re also my older brother and fuck me for  _ believing  _ in you, for  _ looking up to you. _ When will I be enough for you, Viktor? When will your  _ family  _ be fucking  _ enough?” _

 

_ “ _ When will you be enough? When will  _ you  _ be enough?” Viktor let out an incredulous laugh. “When will  _ I  _ be enough for  _ you,  _ Yuri? I have choreographed every single performance for you since the beginning of your career. I have helped you, mentored you, broken my back with a smile on my face to ensure that you were as set up for success as I was! But when I finally find something  _ I  _ want,  _ I  _ need, all hell breaks loose! Don’t you talk to me about being selfish, Yuri!”

 

“You promised me!” Yuri’s voice was hysterical. “My senior debut is bigger and more important than anything I’ve ever worked towards! And you’re going to choose  _ now  _ to leave, to dump me to utterly fend for myself?”

 

“Quit acting as if you’re such a pity case!” Viktor snarled, finally having enough. “You have rinkmates who are eager to help and support you, but all you ever do is push them away and insult them because you’re arrogant yet insecure. You have a coach who is one of the best in the world, and a choreographer who looks out for you and creates dances that are meant to challenge yet show off your talents. Why aren’t  _ they  _ enough, Yuri?” Viktor shook his head, his teeth grinding together. “I built my career and flourished with less than you have!”

 

“Don’t sound so eager to remind me, asshole.”

 

Viktor’s knuckles turned white from clenching the phone. Ungrateful. His brother was so ungrateful. “You’re out of control.”

 

“No, what’s out of control is that my brother, the one person I thought I could count on, depend on despite his stupidity, has decided to leave his family and his career for a quick fuck.” Each word was like a stab of ice through Viktor’s chest. “Don’t bother showing up at the finals next week. I don’t want you.” Yuri hung up, leaving Viktor alone with his head pounding hard enough for him to hear it.

 

A quick fuck.  _ A quick fuck.  _ Viktor knew his brother could be cruel when he was angry, but his words on that phone call had exceeded all levels of offensiveness that could possibly be breached. 

 

Viktor knew he was later going to blame himself. He was going to spend some precious hours away from his inner turmoil, family drama, and creeping depression in the presence of Yuuri, and then it would all come crashing back to him as he tried to fall asleep that night. He would remember his brother’s vicious insults and accusations, and he would take it all upon his own heart like he always did.

 

Caught up in his own thoughts, Viktor was startled by the sound of a sweet, tentative voice calling his name across the ice. “Viktor?”

 

Viktor’s heart sped up for entirely different reasons. He spun around and smiled at Yuuri, though the smile felt fake and pained. It was a podium smile.

 

_ When will I be enough for you, Viktor? When will your  family  be fucking  enough? _

 

Yuuri’s lovely grin faltered when he beheld Viktor’s expression.  _ Everything okay?  _ He signed, his movements sharp and precise so Viktor could understand. 

 

Because Viktor didn't know how to sign  _ I’m supposed to be returning home in a week after the Grand Prix Finals but I accidently fell in love with you and you're the only thing that has made me genuinely happy in over a decade and I don't want to leave you and the life I can see us building together behind but if I don't return home my brother will hate me because I promised to choreograph a program for his senior debut, _ he simply signed a weak, half-hearted  _ yes  _ but knew Yuuri saw right through it.

 

Mercifully, Yuuri didn't comment. Instead, he focused his attention on a small electronic device that he was clipping to the waist of his pants. 

 

Curious, Viktor glided over to Yuuri’s side.  _ What is that?  _ He signed, and hoped his gestures were at least sixty percent accurate.

 

Yuuri’s lips quirked amusedly, and with Viktor’s luck he knew he probably just asked Yuuri to feed his parrot or pull down his pants. However, Viktor’s expression seemed to ask enough, and Yuuri’s response confirmed that he understood.

 

“It's how I ice skate to music.” Yuuri began, and launched into a detailed explanation. “This little box right here…” Yuuri pointed to the skin-colored, match-box sized contraption at his waist. “Uses Bluetooth to connect to my phone, the overhead speakers, whatever source of music I use for the day. The box at my waist then interprets the music as sound waves, and creates vibrations that match the beat of the music. The vibrations then travel up this cord and to this little sticky patch that I put on my chest, so I can feel the beat of the music and skate in time with it.” Yuuri then unraveled the skin-colored cord with the patch. He smiled impishly, then gently placed it on Viktor’s collarbone. 

 

“Hm, I wonder if you'll know this song.” He pondered aloud, and then pressed a button on the device. The contraption and overhead speakers sparked to life, as did Viktor’s heart.

 

_ “Stammi Vincino…” _

 

Viktor gasped at the odd sensation. “It's...it's like having an extra heartbeat.” Yuuri hummed in agreement. After the initial shock of the device passed, Viktor’s amazement shifted to Yuuri.

 

“You...you create music with your body even though you've never heard it before.” He said lowly, in awe. “Most fantastic skaters  _ need  _ music, need hours and months of musical interpretation to move in a way that brings music to life, but you…” Viktor shook his head. “You  _ feel  _ the music with your heart. You create the sadness and joy and beauty of the music, yet you've never heard a single note in your life. It seems impossible. It's unbelievable. Its inspiring and it's--” Viktor shook his head; he had never been at a loss of words before. “It's  _ amazing.” _

 

Yuuri’s cheeks turned crimson, and he ducked his head. Viktor had seen Yuuri skate many times, but it had never really sunk in just what Yuuri was capable of doing with nothing but a little pulse device. He truly was something special.

 

When Viktor said as much, Yuuri shook his head demurely, his cheeks still tinged pink. “S-says you. You have more gold medals than I have toes and fingers.”

 

Viktor strode forward and took Yuuri’s face in his hands, forcing Yuuri’s chocolate eyes to meet his. “Gold medals are  _ nothing  _ compared to what you have accomplished. It's true that I've obtained medals and a title, but  _ you,  _ Yuuri, have made an example of yourself and proven to the world that disabilities do not define us. Anyone can get on the ice and skate to pretty songs if they try, Yuuri, but there is a difference between performing to an audience and inspiring them. You have inspired children who, before you, believed their dreams were impossible, and you've inspired me.”

 

Yuuri’s bottom lip wobbled as Viktor traced the pad of his thumb over it, and his shaky exhale across Viktor’s hand sent shivers down his spine. Eyes wet, Yuuri murmured, “Viktor--”

 

“I've said it a million times Yuuri, but I'll say it again. You could do it. If you stepped on the ice in front of an audience, they would never be able to turn from you again. You could live your life doing what you love most and you have countless people to back you--”

 

“S-stop!” Yuuri pushed away suddenly, and Viktor bit his lip in anger at himself. He always forgot how skittish Yuuri could be. “I came here because you wanted to see how my pulse machine works, not because I wanted to hear another speech on changing my lifestyle. I get it Viktor, I know you want me to go professional, and the answer is  _ no.  _ If you asked me out here just so you could--”

 

“No!” Viktor shouted suddenly, and then lowered his voice. “I'm sorry, Yuuri, it's just…”  _ You're phenomenal. You're so much better than you realize, and you're throwing it away! Why not inspire the world instead of just a handful of people here in Hasetsu?  _ These were all words that Viktor knew Yuuri didn't want to hear, so he simply sighed and said dejectedly, “I'm sorry.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes softened. “I never meant to hurt you, Viktor, I'm just--”

 

“I understand.” Viktor took Yuuri’s hand in both of his and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Now go show me how this weird alien pulse contraption works it's magic.”

 

Yuuri snorted at that, and took his place out on the ice. Viktor watched with rapt attention as Yuuri signed his name, a gentle gesture over his eye that trailed down his cheek.

 

_ Yuuri always signs his name before a program.  _ Viktor remembers Mari telling him.  _ It's kind of his trademark.  _

 

Viktor watched Yuuri’s hands take position, watched him subtly adjust the cord on his pulse machine…

 

And then listened in utter shock as  _ Stammi Vicino  _ blared on the speakers once more.

 

Tears filled Viktor’s eyes as the man he’d grown to admire more than anyone else in the world skated his program, executing it more beautifully and with more emotion than Viktor ever could. 

 

__Non lo so dove andrò,  
Ancora no,  
Vado dove vai tu.  
E ti seguirò tanto non  
Ho altro da fare più…

 

Yuuri’s arms rose and fell as if he'd run through the moves a million times, and even though he didn't quite land the quad, the performance was magnificent. If the judges were impressed with the way Viktor skated it, he couldn't imagine how they'd react to  _ Yuuri’s  _ interpretation of the program.

 

Watching Yuuri skate was both joy and agony. It was joy because he was so wonderful, and because Viktor was so touched that Yuuri had learned  _ Viktor’s  _ program. But it was also agony, because while Viktor was savoring the performance, he was also doing something extremely dangerous.

 

As he admired Yuuri, he simultaneously pictured a stadium in a far away country, filled with lights and people and life. He pictured Yuuri in a costume that emphasized his grace and radiant beauty, and pictured judges leaning in their seats to get a closer glimpse at the man who changed the world of figure skating forever.

 

But most dangerous of all, Viktor pictured himself on the sidelines, just as he was now, but in costume from a previous skate with a beaming grin on his face and flowers in his arms for his love. He pictured racing on the ice after Yuuri’s gold-winning debut, tackling the love of his life in an embrace, peppering his face with kisses, and the two of them leaving the stadium hand in hand and Viktor weeping with pride.

 

Viktor had never really considered himself a dreamer, but in that moment, he had never wished so fiercely and desperately for something he knew he could never have.

 

The absence of music and Yuuri’s panting breaths jolted Viktor out of his wistful hoping. Yuuri was currently staring at Viktor, his red face gleaming with emotion and exertion, and Viktor met him halfway. 

 

Viktor wasn't sure how long the embrace lasted. The only thing he was sure of in that moment was that he never wanted to let go.

 

Yuuri pulled back enough to look into Viktor’s face. He worried his bottom lip and then blurted, “I know I could never skate that as well as you, but you said you wanted to see how my pulse machine works and the music was familiar so I--”

 

“You are wrong.” Viktor whispered, and his eyes slid shut as he pressed his forehead against Yuuri’s and forcefully squeezed his hand. “You are so,  _ so  _ wrong.”

 

A million unspoken words.  _ I've never met anyone like you. I'm enamored by you. I want to take you with me to Russia and never let you go. I'm in love with you. _

 

An insane idea popped into Viktor’s head, an idea crazy enough that it could only be fueled by love, and he gently pressed the play button on Yuuri’s hip. If Yuuri couldn't understand Viktor when he said what an incredible team they were, that Yuuri was just as good, if not better, than Viktor, than he would have to show him.

 

As  _ Stammi Vicino  _ blared to life, Viktor smiled, took both of Yuuri’s hands in his, and said three simple words.

 

 

“Follow my lead.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: the pulse machine is a device that was made up entirely by me, and as I was writing this chapter I had no idea/had not researched if such a device existed. I am in no way, shape, or form attempting to steal the idea of something that already exists/claim it as my own, but I discovered there is a device called Vibeat that works similarly to Yuuri's pulse machine. The Vibeat is a fascinating device, and is a similar contraption to what Yuuri has, just in case you're curious for more details on Yuuri's machine or would like to read up about it!
> 
> Thank you all again for the endless love and support, it truly means the world.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I'm so sorry for the wait. I have not and will never forget this story and everyone’s wonderful, unbelievably amazing support, but life sort of hit me in the face. Some unexpected family matters have really weakened me, and I recently had a bad falling out with my best friend. Nonetheless, I am so thankful for all of you, you have been my lighthouse in these dark, unexpected turns of events.
> 
> Quick note before we begin: There is a scene in this chapter where Yuuri and Phichit communicate via Facetime, and I have been DYING to write it. It is inspired by my hard of hearing friend who communicates with her family in Germany by reading their lips through Facetime and talking, occasionally signing, back! I’ve only watched her do it once and it was one of the most wonderful things I’d ever witnessed, and she is the inspiration for this chapter. 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at ofskatesandwatercolor. Never hesitate to stop by and say hello! Thank you all, enjoy!

Yuuri didn't realize what multitasking was until he simultaneously attempted packing a bag, interpreting his best friend’s words and gestures over Facetime, and almost sent a lamp flying to its death as he enthusiastically signed back.

_Put down that stupid blue tie and talk to me_! Phichit signed petulantly, and then readjusted the hamster on his right shoulder.

_Sorry_. Yuuri signed back sheepishly, and returned to his spot at his desk in front of his MacBook. It had been over a week since he’d talked to his best friend, and here he was prioritizing a suitcase over him. He really was the worst friend.

Phichit grinned. _You’re so in love that you don’t know what to do with yourself. You do realize that the trip isn’t for another week, right?_

Yuuri spluttered indignantly, “I am not in love!”

Phichit raised an eyebrow, and then gestured to the hamster on his lap. He leaned forward so that his onyx eyes were startlingly close to the camera, making Yuuri instinctively lean back. _You know how acute hamster senses are to falsities. My children sense lies, Yuuri. Lies! How could you lie to the children?!_

Yuuri shot him an unamused look and signed, _If_ _those_ _are_ _your_ _children, then I feel sorry for what you’re going to call_ _your_ _actual_ _kids_ _some_ _day_. Makkachin chose that moment to come bounding over, and stuck his wet nose right into Yuuri’s Facetime camera. Yuuri laughed as Phichit erupted into screeches that for once he was glad he couldn't hear.

“What’s wrong? Is Makka scaring the children?” Yuuri snorted, even though he knew the answer. When Vicchan was alive, Yuuri would occasionally pick him up and show him to the screen just to watch Phichit’s dramatically hilarious reaction.

“As a matter of fact, he is!” Phichit cried, and cuddled all five hamsters to his face as Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Escort that heathen out of my sight!”

“Heathen?” Yuuri repeated, and then erupted into loud, boisterous laughter. “Makkachin is not a _heathen_.” Phichit scowled as Yuuri buckled over, even though the glare was half-hearted.

Yuuri grinned right back at him.“When Viktor comes back from his walk, I’ll alert him of his poodle’s inappropriate behavior.”

“Good. You show that barbarian.”

“The dog or Viktor?”

Yuuri cackled as the telltale dusting of a blush rose on his friend’s face that had him blinking widely and yelling things that Yuuri was too busy laughing over to interpret. Even though Yuuri was the real Viktor Nikiforov fan between the two, especially in previous years of he and Phichit’s friendship, the Thai man still had admitted a crush to the legendary skater. Yuuri didn’t blame him. No matter who you were, how could you not? Even though Yuuri had long passed his days of idolizing Viktor in favor of friendship, he was still Viktor, after all. Stunningly beautiful, talented Viktor.

_First scaring my children, and then humiliating me in front of them._ Phichitsigned _,_ shaking his head _. You really are the worst friend ever._

Yuuri, resigned, flashed him an apologetic smile. _I missed you, Phichit._

Phichit’s withering glare softened into a smile at that. _I missed you too! Even though signing is great, it's awesome to hear you talking again. I missed hearing your voice._

Yuuri felt a familiar warmth blossom in his chest. “You can thank Viktor for that.”

“Viktor.” Phichit let the name roll slowly off his lips, and then leaned forward so that his head was resting in his hamster-free palm. He studied Yuuri inquisitively. Yuuri knew he was doomed when his friend’s lips tugged into a cat-post-canary smile. “Viktor, Viktor. Word on the street is that you had a romantic pair-skate date the other day.”

Yuuri balked, his eyes wide. “Word on the street?! Are there pictures going around? Have people discovered Viktor’s direct loca-”

“Relax.” His friend waved him off. “I called Mari for advice on something and she spilled.”

Yuuri huffed. “Traitor.”

Phichit’s eyes turned comically wide, and he thrust an open palm across his chest. “ _I’m_ the traitor?! Says the man who was going to withhold juicy information from his best friend!”

Yuuri crossed his arms. “Who says I’m still not going to withhold?”

Phichit narrowed his eyes. “Because if you don't, I’ll tell Viktor about your time taking pole dancing class--”

“Okay, okay!” Yuuri squeaked, suddenly flustered.

And so he sat back in his chair, pulled Makkachin’s head into his lap despite Phichit’s protests, and told his best friend everything.

_**One day prior** _

_“Follow my lead.”_

_Frowning, Yuuri tentatively placed his hand into Viktor’s outstretched one. “Viktor, what are you--” He was cut off my his own gasp escaping his mouth as Viktor reached for his hip and his pulse machine unexpectedly blared to life._

_Yuuri would recognize those crescendoing and wilting vibrations anywhere. It had to be Stammi Vicino, and the way Viktor was gazing at him as the music played was doing nothing to help the vibrations in Yuuri’s own chest. In fact, at this point, it was difficult to tell which beat belonged to the pulse machine and which beat belonged to his heart._

_Viktor’s smile only widened at the flustered expression that was undoubtedly shining as bright as noon on Yuuri’s complexion. Mercifully, the older man didn't comment on it, but only took Yuuri’s other hand in his own as the music swelled._

_“Do you trust me?” Viktor’s fringe brushed his hairline.Yuuri didn't know if there had ever been another occasion where he so deeply longed to hear another person’s voice. Viktor’s breath was gentle against Yuuri’s flushed face, lips hovering right into Yuuri’s line of sight._

_“You know I do.” Yuuri wasn’t sure if he actually said the words aloud, but Viktor seemed to receive the message._

_“Good.” His smile turned a little impish then, and after adjusting Yuuri’s grip in his own palm, he tugged him across the ice._

_Yuuri let out a little yelp that had Viktor’s chest rumbling with soft laughter. After a moment of stumbling and barking at Viktor for pulling him into a dance too quickly, Yuuri caught the jist of what his partner was trying to do._

_“This song was originally intended for a pair skate, you know.” Viktor hummed lowly, making sure Yuuri’s face was tilted at an angle in which he could clearly see Viktor’s mouth. Even though it was solely for interpretation reasons, the sight of it so close still made Yuuri’s knees weak._

_“Oh?” Was all Yuuri managed to respond, too focused on not letting his legs give out from under him._

_“I tried a few partners, some male, some female, but it just never felt...right.” A small wrinkle formed between Viktor’s eyebrow, and Yuuri felt the embarrassing urge to reach out and smooth it over with his finger. “Yakov said it was because none of the skaters were quite to my calibur.” Viktor snorted then, his fringe swaying as he shook his head._

_“He was probably right.” Yuuri admitted, praying that his palms wouldn’t get any sweatier than they already were._

_Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He said, pulling them into a spin, “Those skaters had ten times more experience and time on the ice than you.”_

_“Well, obviously.”_

_“Then explain why you’re keeping up with me beautifully, following my every anticipation and glide.” Viktor’s eyes sparked with ambition and something intense that Yuuri couldn’t quite place, and he chose that moment to lift Yuuri into the air._

_Despite his surprise, Yuuri kept his eyes locked on Viktor’s unreadable ones throughout the entire move, and didn’t even break hold when he was spun and placed gracefully back on the ground._

_“It’s not because my partners were unsuitable skill wise which, by the way, you could match one of them on the ice now.” Viktor said passively. “It was because I couldn't feel any of them. It didn’t matter how much emotion they portrayed into their skate with me, because I knew the emotions were fake and that didn’t feel right.”_

_“I don’t understand.” Yuuri frowned._

_“I need a partner who makes me feel the emotions that are supposed to be portrayed in the skate. I want a partner who feels deeply right alongside of me, whose emotions and motives can blend with mine until the skate becomes one.” Viktor’s eyes lost the cold, wintery touch, and it was replaced with something warm, something intense, something almost pleading._

_“Do you understand, Yuuri?”_

_“I’m beginning to.”_

“So what happens next?”

Yuuri, caught in a moment that had long since passed, let his fingers still in Makkachin’s fur. “What...what do you mean?”

Phichit crossed his legs. “Well, from what you’ve told me, you’re smitten with him and he's obviously smitten with you. Not to mention how flawlessly the two of you work together! However, he’s still a professional skater and...well.” Phichit shrugged. “How serious are you guys?”

Yuuri, suddenly not much in the mood for talking at all, dropped his head. How serious were they? Yuuri knew he felt something deep for Viktor, but as far as the other man, he was about as easy to read as a blank rock. “I...I don’t know, Phichit. I’ve only known him for a month but…”

His best friend waited.

Yuuri took a deep breath. “He keeps saying he wants me to skate professionally. He’s willing to drop his entire career to become my coach.”

Phichit’s eyes widened impossibly large. “You're kidding.”

Yuuri shook his head.

“That’s...that’s...wow.” Phichit deadpanned, and then laughed in disbelief. “Forward, I guess? Amazing, nonetheless, he must be crazy about you! You’re going to take his deal, right?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Yuuri scowled, suddenly angry. “Just because he’s Viktor Nikiforov doesn't mean I’m going to drop my entire life for him! I mean yes I care about him and want a future with him, but I’ve built up a good life for myself here and--” Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut, frustrated that he couldn’t put his feelings into words. He felt like he was just learning to speak again. “It would be irrational and selfish. I can’t steal Viktor from the world just because I love him.”

Yuuri was silent for a moment, and his friend only stared, his mouth slightly parted. The electricity in the air became tangible enough to taste as Yuuri registered what exactly he’d just admitted.

Phichit’s gestures were gentle. _You’re just now realizing it, aren’t you? That you’re in love with him._

Yuuri felt a little hollow as it clicked into place. The indescribable feeling he felt whenever Viktor laughed. The emotion that had manifested far past fanly admiration, the emotion he’d dug himself so deeply into that he’d ignored the warning signs as a whole. He’d gone and done exactly what he warned himself not to do, what he knew was going to get himself shattered.

Defeated, he signed nothing but a shaky confirmation.

_Yuuri_. His friend signed back, gestures precise but slow, almost as if a sudden movement would scare Yuuri away. _It's_ _alright, you know. Viktor seems like a good_ \--

“It's not alright!” Yuuri shouted suddenly, carting his hands through his disheveled hair. “I swore to myself I wouldn't do this, that I wouldn't allow myself to get hurt! Now I've gone and gotten attached and close to him and--”

“Yuuri, you're making it sound like love is a burden instead of a blessing. People don't just walk into other people’s lives without a purpose, and if you love Viktor, I think the chance of you losing him is small.” Yuuri was taken aback by the furrow in his friend’s brow, the slight downturn curve of his lips. Phichit was never unpleasant. “I love you Yuuri, but sometimes you frustrate me to pieces. For once in your life, can you take a step back from possible disaster scenarios and do something _good_ for yourself?”

Yuuri’s mouth opened, but his friend didn't give him a chance to respond.

"And don’t you dare give me the ‘I’m not good enough, I’m not worthy’ bullshit!" Phichit switched to sign language, his movements so sharp and passionate that his hamsters went scuttling away on the bed from their owner.

_You are good enough, you are smart enough, and you are deserving enough. I didn't just drop Latin in college to take sign language courses for nothing. I did it because I met one of the most incredible human beings in my life, someone so wonderful and caring that I knew he was going to be my best friend._

Eyes flooding with tears, Yuuri was too stunned to respond.

_I didn't take the classes because I wanted to communicate with you better, though that part of it was something I'd never trade for anything. I took them because you inspired me. You showed me what a beautiful language signing is, and demonstrated the intimacy of it so stunningly that I had to be in on it, had to be a piece in that little world. Yuuri, you inspired me just like you've inspired and captivated Viktor, though this love is a different kind than friendship. And dammit, if you don't take what you want for once in your life I'm going to fly down there from Detroit and and stick your head down a toilet bowl myself!_

Yuuri couldn't swallow down the lump in his throat, so he shakily raised his hands instead. He had no words to reply or cap Phichit’s words. Shoulders slumping but mouth breaking into a watery smile, Yuuri signed, _I love you, Phichit._

_I love you, too._ His friend’s brow was no longer pinched, and his face was lit up with the familiar triumphant grin Yuuri had become so accustomed to over the years.

_I have to go, Ciao Ciao is trying to call me in for practice. That man is going to bleed me dry. Phichit rolled his eyes, causing Yuuri to snort. I’m not going to pressure you to do anything, but just try to remember what I said, okay?_

Yuuri sniffed around his tears and laughed, “Does that mean there's a chance I _won't_ get my head stuck in the bottom of a toilet bowl?”

Phichit crossed his arms and raised a perfect eyebrow. “I'm not making any promises. Promise me next time I see you your mom will make us katsudon, and I'll think about it.”

“Duly noted.” Yuuri raised a hand and signed a gesture of thanks. “Bye, Phichit.”

Slamming his laptop shut, Yuuri covered his face with his hands and groaned, even though he found that a smile was trying to peek its way through his fingertips.

In love with Viktor.

A month ago, even a week ago, the idea of falling in love would have sent Yuuri panicking and running into Hasetsu’s backcountry to avoid his problems forever. But Phichit’s words had stirred something in him, had made him consider weighing his options instead of shutting them all down.

Sudden excitement caused a grin to break out across Yuuri’s face, a giddy laugh escaping his lips. In _love!_

Perhaps it was time for Yuuri to stop worrying and to begin living a little bit.

“Oh, gosh.” Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he sought out a pair of adorable beady dog eyes for solace. “Makkachin, I’m in love with Viktor. I have to tell him, don't I?!”

There was no telling how much longer Viktor would be here. Yuuri meant it when he said he was not going to steal away with Viktor to Russia, but Phichit had been right. People walked into one another’s lives for a reason, and the sooner Yuuri communicated with Viktor, the sooner they could try to make something work.

Laughing and sliding out of his chair, Yuuri cooed some sentimental nonsense to Makkachin before sliding his half-packed suitcase under his bed. Yuuri briefly considered waiting until the Junior Grand Prix, but he found he couldn't wait that long. Every moment had to count when you were dealing with flighty, insanely busy and renown Viktor Nikiforov, and quite frankly Yuuri didn't want to spend a week that resulted in him talking himself out of it.

Yuuri checked the time on his cell. Viktor had left to make some phone calls back home, and Yuuri didn't blame him. It had been a while since he’d been in Russia, and Viktor was precious to so many people. They probably missed him dearly.

Yuuri padded towards the common area of the family onsen, heart racing, silently hoping that Viktor had returned. Yuuri could feel the vibrations of Makkachin’s nails scratching the floor as he trotted, said skater’s pet just as excited as Yuuri was for his owners inevitable arrival.

“Viktor, I'm in love with you.” Yuuri breathed quietly, stopping for a moment to think things through. “Maybe that's too forward. “Viktor, I know we haven't been close for a very long time, but--”

Yuuri was cut off by a squawk escaping past his own lips as Makkachin suddenly darted forward between his legs. The dog began panting and bounding across the hall excitedly, which could only mean one thing. Yuuri followed the poodle, biting back an elated smile.

“Viktor!” Yuuri called fondly, grinning at Viktor’s form hunched over one of the low-lying tables. “There's something that I've been meaning to--” Yuuri stopped short.

Viktor’s eyes, usually lit up with childlike excitement, were staring vacantly at a spot above the television. His hair hung limply, the stylish fringe missing it's usual silver, lively luster. His hands were perfectly still under the table instead of impatiently drumming or tapping his lips, which, Yuuri noticed, were a shade of ghostly white instead of pink. However, it wasn't Viktor’s appearance that made Yuuri realize that something was horribly wrong.

When Makkachin padded up to Viktor, paws on his owner’s shoulders and sniffing his neck affectionately, the older skater didn't as much as lift a hand. He continued staring at nothing, his sapphire eyes dulled and darkened to a lifeless cobalt.

“Viktor?” Yuuri called again tentatively, approaching the other man with concern. He sat across from Viktor, Makkachin whimpering unhappily.

After moments of silence, Yuuri reached out anxiously under the table and took one of Viktor’s hands into his own.

It was like gripping ice.

“Viktor...your hands are so cold.” Yuuri finished dumbly, frazzled and more than shocked at seeing such an unfamiliar version of the man he loved in front of him.

“It's worse some days.” Was all Viktor said, and Yuuri’s stomach dropped at the indication, the indication that Viktor wasn't talking about cold hands. The bags under his eyes were so prominent that Yuuri imagined reaching out and pulling back fingers smudged with ink.

“W-worse?” Yuuri stuttered, heart pounding, other hand reaching down to take the frigid hand in both of his. “Viktor, I don't--”

Slowly, those vacant blue eyes shifted from their point on the wall, and Yuuri’s heart cracked at witnessing firsthand the underlying despair that he hadn't been able to catch when their gazes were apart. Yuuri’s heart began to beat out of his chest anxiously, and he inwardly begged himself to think of something, anything, to rid his love’s eyes of that haunted, broken vacancy.

 

“My brother has run away.” Viktor said, his freezing hands suddenly trembling in Yuuri’s grip. “I'm returning to Russia.”

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I am glad to be back after my hiatus, and I hope there are still some people out there enjoying this story! To make a very long story short, the reason I put this story on hiatus was because I was getting some threats in my inbox that were very upsetting, and after that, writing this story became more of a burden instead of being a way for me to relax. I’m hoping the toxic person who was sending me messages is gone for good, because I am still passionate about this story and am grateful to all of you. If you want more details, you can contact me on my tumblr at @ofskatesandwatercolor
> 
> PREVIOUSLY ON SILENT ICE: After receiving a phone call from his little brother that demands Viktor return to Russia after the Junior Grand Prix, tensions rise between Viktor and his family and Viktor has to make the decision to stay with Yuuri or abandon his happiness and return to Russia. After talking on the phone with Phichit, Yuuri realizes that he is in love with Viktor. However, just when Yuuri is about to tell Viktor how he feels, Viktor’s little brother Yuri goes missing and Viktor’s important decision is decided for him.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: This chapter contains an anxiety attack.

 

_“I’m returning to Russia.”_

Yuuri was no stranger to devastation.

He had known the clutches of it when his first and only dog had died by running into the street when Yuuri had turned a blind eye. He saw it in his mother’s eyes when her own mother had passed away three years previously, Yuuri slipping hugs around her waist when she needed it and quietly finishing dishes when his mother would begin the job and start weeping part way through. He had known it and confronted it millions of times, but his experiences were not anywhere near significant enough to prepare him for the scene before him.

Viktor was a passionate, energetic person no matter what mood he was in. Though this was wonderful when he was happy, it also meant that he was an absolute disaster when he was upset.

The older man paced frantically, not yelling but _screaming_ things into the phone on the other line, his face shiny and red with tears. Ugly sobs wracked his body between sentences, and the sight was enough to bring tears to Yuuri’s own eyes. He felt so helpless. He did not know Viktor’s brother and he was not in Russia, so there was virtually nothing he could do.

“Please.” Yuuri recognized a tidbit of a Russian phrase on Viktor’s lips and translated it in his head. “ _Please_!”

Yuuri could not hear Viktor, but that did not stop the splitting headache that pierced him behind his eyes. Anxiety and fear of Yuuri’s own began to stir in his chest, but for once Yuuri forced himself to calm down even though it did not ebb. Viktor was the one who had every right to be upset, and Yuuri had to make face and stay strong for him. He forced his hands to stop trembling as they filled up a glass of water at the sink.

Viktor seemed to be holding on a telephone line now. He didn't appear to be speaking, but tears still trailed down his cheeks and his face was contorted in absolute agony. His chest was heaving below his pale sweater.

 _For you_. Yuuri gently signed, and carefully placed the glass of water into Viktor’s palm. He kissed his forehead after doing so, and tenderly brushed his fringe of hair away from his blotchy, tear-stained cheeks.

“I'm on the phone with Yakov.” Even in his state of severe distress, Viktor made sure that the words on his lips were clear and precise for reading, causing Yuuri’s heart to clench in his chest. “We thought that we were only dealing with finding my brother, but now there are journalists who are clawing at Yakov’s feet to allow them permission to write a story about Russia’s Fairy going missing. They want to write a review on a missing child because he's a celebrity and because the story will give their company attention. People are sick, Yuuri.” The water in his glass began sloshing precariously as his hands began trembling.

Yuuri didn't give himself even a moment to be horrified, even though those words were enough to make his heart crack and blood boil. He needed to be there for the man he loved, and having a breakdown was not what Viktor needed.

“What if we never find him? Russia is so large, he could be hurt, lost--”

“Viktor.” Yuuri began gently, praying that his voice didn't sound as shaken up as he felt, “As disgusting as those news reporters are, it is true that Yuri is well known and loved. Someone will recognize him. Someone will find him and immediately--”

“That's what's so terrifying, Yuuri!” Viktor cried, and a whole new wave of sobs wracked his body. “People are sick and evil and they know Yuri and will take advantage of him for his money and status! They could rob him, break him, hold him for ransom because they know he's my brother--”

“Yuri is intelligent, Viktor. I’m sure wherever he went has people that he knows. Have you contacted Otabek Altin?”

Viktor’s eyes flashed underneath the despair, and he picked up his phone again and dialed a number. Yuuri took that as an opportunity to make himself scarce so he could calm down.

To Yuuri’s relief, it seemed that Viktor didn’t even register the absence as Yuuri padded towards his room. Makkachin was hot on his heels, but Yuuri couldn’t feel much of anything except the frantic beating in his chest signaling an anxiety attack. He’d tried so hard to be strong, but with revelations of love, a missing brother, and the person he’d foolishly fallen in love with soon to be leaving him, Yuuri was left with too many emotions to remain on a calm platform.

The next minutes, maybe even hours, were a complete blur. Yuuri registered a soft bed, dog fur, and his chest heaving with so much intensity that he couldn’t keep up with his breathing. The panicking eventually gave way for tears, and Yuuri fell into some sort of sleep like in-between.

In his drunken-like, exhausted state of mind, Yuuri told himself over and over again that things were going to be okay. Teenagers were teenagers, meaning there was no way in hell that Yuri would indulge any of his plans to Yakov or the other adults who cared about him. Teenagers often prioritized their friends first, and if none of the adults in Yuri’s life knew about his plans, surely Otabek Altin did.

_Things are going to be okay._

_Things are going to be okay._

_Please let it be true_ , Yuuri thought, as sleep finally took its gentle hold on his mind.

  
When Yuuri awoke, he wasn’t certain on how much time had passed. However, he knew that the sun had gave way to orange and gold streaks of dusk across the sky as it streamed through his window, and that Viktor was sitting on his bed, a hand absently stroking his head as he stared at the sky. He also knew that even though he’d slept soundly, he somehow awoke feeling as much exhaustion as he’d felt before.

Viktor hadn’t seemed to notice that Yuuri had woke up yet. He didn’t say a word.

But it was funny how when you loved a person so much, you could tell exactly what was going on and what was on their mind just from studying them: the way their breaths rose and fell, the gleam or lack of it in their eyes.

“When...when does your flight leave?” Yuuri said, somehow already knowing the answer from the way his heart began to sink.

Viktor turned to face him so Yuuri could read his lips, but his dead looking expression didn’t change. The only indication that Viktor had heard him was the way he   
increased the tenderness in which he was running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “I have to leave for the airport in about twenty minutes.” His voice was low, hoarse. “You were right.”

Yuuri’s stomach dropped into his toes, even though that was the answer he had been expecting. “Right? Right about what?”

“Otabek knew exactly where Yuri was and what his plans were. The only reason he hadn’t called me sooner was because he had happened to be on the phone with Yuri at that very moment. He disconnected his call with Yuri so he could alert me immediately.” Viktor’s chest heaved in what Yuuri assumed was a rough chuckle. “Yuri probably is pegging him as a traitor.”

“Otabek did always seemed like a smart kid.” Yuuri mused.

“Yes.” Viktor sighed, and he both looked and sounded as if the world had added ten years to his life. “Underneath his seemingly grumpy demeanor, he’s actually quite a kindred spirit. It’s too bad his gentleness hasn’t rubbed off on my brother.”

“So where is he? What happened?” Yuuri realized that in his sleepiness, he hadn’t quite gotten a grip on his voice yet, and willed himself to speak more quietly. He cleared his throat. “Is he with Otabek?”

Viktor shook his head. “He’s not with Otabek, but Otabek told me everything. Even though Yuri made it seem like I was a traitor, Otabek said he could hear the hurt and fear in his voice.” Viktor’s eyes were rimmed with red. “When Otabek called, Yuri was on his way to the airport. He was planning on flying to Hasetsu himself and begging me to come back. Which seems out of character, but Otabek was being completely serious. He said Yuri was going to “fight for me.” Viktor’s shoulders sagged. “I told Otabek to call Yuri since Yuri wasn’t answering my calls, and tell him that I was flying home tonight.”

Yuuri traced a frayed string on his pillowcase, trying not to give way to the creeping despair that threatened to drag him down by the neck. “Yuri things I’m stealing you away from him, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

“You’re not stealing me away from him!” Viktor snapped, though Yuuri knew it wasn’t directed at him. It seemed as if it were directed at Viktor himself, trying to convince himself of something that wasn’t true. It was true. If Yuuri were Viktor’s little brother and had witnessed Viktor disappear only to give another person whom Yuri had never met his entire time, his entire life, he would be upset too.

All too quickly, this suddenly became about Yuuri.

Yuuri sprang from the bed, away from Viktor. “Yes I am.” Yuuri choked, and the tears began to flow. “You can’t do this, Viktor. I can’t steal you away. You have to go back.”

Shocked, Viktor stood up, a bed the only thing between Viktor’s outraged stature and Yuuri’s crumpled one. “G-go back?” Viktor stammered, at a loss. “Yuuri, I never imagined you would be siding with my brother. He’s being selfish! You make me happy, I—“

“Viktor, you make me happy.” Yuuri cried, but he was already resigned. “You make me _so_ happy. But Yuri is your family. You’ve been here for far too long.”

Viktor’s expression was beginning to match Yuuri’s, crumpled and twisted, but disbelief still wracking each corner of his face. “I don’t understand. It was supposed to be you and me—“

“It was _never_ you and me!” Yuuri screamed, all of his pent up emotions finally crashing over him in a fierce, ugly wave. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, the utter pain and truth of what he was about to say swallowing him whole. “You are the pride of your country, and I’m a nobody! I’m supposed to stay here, and you’re supposed to go on living and inspiring and—“

“You aren’t a nobody!” Yuuri could sense Viktor’s angry, raised voice. “I’ve told you a million times but you won’t listen to me! We are _equals_! Why won’t you take a chance on us?”

“Because I’m not worth it! I’m a disabled, self-conscious, anxious loser who has never done anything worthwhile in his life and never will! Go home Viktor!” Yuuri sobbed. “ _Go home!_ ”

Yuuri hadn’t watched Viktor cross the room, but suddenly his face was being held and his forehead was touching Viktor’s. Yuuri tried to pry away, but Viktor wouldn’t let him. He was firmly into place against the wall.

Yuuri imagined a different time, a different world, when they were in this position under different circumstances.

“Don’t you _ever_ ,” Viktor began, thumbs swiping at the tears under Yuuri’s eyes, “Speak that way about yourself again. You are not a loser. You are beautiful, powerful, strong, impactful, kind, and gentle. What happened to my Yuuri, the one that says that our disabilities do not define us? The one that said that disabilities make us beautiful, make us unique?”

“I’m not worth it.” Yuuri whispered, eyes squeezing shut. “Please stop lying to yourself, Viktor. I’m not worth it.”

Viktor tapped the side of Yuuri’s face gently, an indication that he wanted Yuuri to open his eyes. Yuuri did, and even after months, was still overwhelmed by the earnest, gorgeous blue that his vision tunneled to.

 _You are worth it._ Viktor signed, and used his other hand to intertwine his and Yuuri’s fingers.

Briefly, Yuuri glanced out his window and saw that the watercolor sky had given way to a light purple dotted with stars. Panic and devastation set in as the reality of the situation sunk in.

Viktor, the man he had fallen deeply in love with, was about to get on a plane and leave Hasetsu forever. And he was going to take Yuuri’s heart with him.

As if on cue, Yuuri watched as Viktor’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. From the change in Viktor’s expression, Yuuri knew what it was and began to weep. Viktor was forgetful, and always set reminders so he wasn’t late.

Viktor’s eyes snapped to Yuuri’s tear filled ones, and Yuuri felt his chest contract as his cries began vocalizing themselves. Viktor’s face crumpled.

“Yuuri.” Yuuri couldn’t control himself, and was mortified as thick, ugly sobs began to wrack his chest. Viktor looked wrecked, his lovely, pale eyebrows drawn down as tears began to fill his own eyes.

“I’ll come back for you.” Viktor whispered against Yuuri’s cheeks. “D-don’t cry, Yuuri. I’ll come back for you. I’ll come back.”

Yuuri knew it wasn’t true. Viktor would return to Russia and get swept in the whirlwind of business and glory which was his life, and Yuuri would be nothing but a fading fingerprint on the pages and chapters that made up Viktor’s eccentric story. Yuuri was not worth remembering, and as soon as Viktor was out of his honeymoon-like state of mind, he would be cognizant of Yuuri’s plainness and wonder why he gave the dull, painfully average, disabled skater so much of his precious time.

“Be safe.” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor’s expression was full of pain, but somewhere in his eyes Yuuri caught a trace of hope. Viktor held up a folded piece of paper, and then stuck it into Yuuri’s pocket.   
“In case you change your mind. About coming to Russia.”

“I can’t.”

Viktor opened his mouth to reply, but instead decided on pressing a gentle kiss onto Yuuri’s mouth. It was not desperate or passionate, but full of gentle love. Most of all, it held a promise. A promise that Yuuri knew Viktor couldn’t keep.

It broke Yuuri’s heart.

 _I will see you soon, my Yuuri._ Viktor signed, and pressed one last kiss to the back of Yuuri’s hand. _I love you._

 

And then, like a brief spring breeze passing through a harsh, unforgiving winter, Viktor was gone.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who read, please let me know what you thought!


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